Strange Duet
by xSweet Allure
Summary: Miroku lives under an opera house teaching Sango in both music and love. When Kuronosuke, a childhood sweetheart, comes back into Sango's life, a semilove triangle begins... we all know Sango loves Miroku...[EDITING]
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: I do not own both Inuyasha and the glorious PotO. What a pity (pouts)…

_Strange Duet_

By The Sweet Allure of Lady Red Death

**Chapter I**

٭ ٭ ٭

A young girl ran across the golden sand of the beach. Her hair glided gracefully on the wind, and blew behind her like a rippling stream of brown. The light of the sun shone radiantly onto each lock of hair, making it glisten as she ran. She giggled innocently, as her tiny bare feet kicked up the dusty sand. She could feel the gritty feeling of it in between her toes, and loved it. Her cat followed close behind her, twitching its nose in order to rid it of sand.

Kuronosuke de Baka, a mere boy of nine years, smiled at the child. He only wished that he could run after her. He stared at his father. Just a glance told him that he wouldn't be getting permission anytime soon. What did he expect? He was a nobleman! Boys with such high expectations did not have time to waste chasing after a girl on the beach (no matter how adorable she was). He let a disappointed sigh escape his mouth, and tried his very best not to curl his lower lip into a pout.

For a while, Kuronosuke watched the unknown beauty with a dreamy look in his eyes. He tried his best to drown out the boring chatter of his father's discourse with his fellow nobleman. His father said it would be to Kuronosuke's advantage to "learn about the family business." For god's sake, the young boy was nine! He could not have cared less about what his father's conversations were. In fact, he found himself growing weary by the minute. Kuronosuke's eyelids began to drop a bit.

The girl continued to run around atop the sand. She appeared to be singing something gay and joyful. She pranced around, skipping in circles around a tall man (who, rightfully assumed, was her father). The man appeared to be carrying a violin case under his arm and laughing as his daughter ran around him. She was his little pride and joy, and how happy she made him.

The nine-year-old then wondered where the cat had gone. It seemed she had strayed from her owner, like most cats do, in order to chase a butterfly. She clawed at playfully with a little black paw. The feline followed the butterfly along the shore, mindless of the tide, and watched it intensively as the thing flew slightly out over the deep blue ocean. She leaped after it, as the water began to pull her out into sea. The cat had only been about twenty yards to where Kuronosuke had been sitting.

The little girl cried out, "Kirara!" and started to run in after her. The man with the violin case held her back. "No, no! Kirara!" She kicked her legs wildly in the air, begging for her father to release her. "Papa! We must save Kirara!" The child fell limp, feeling tears swell up in her eyes.

Without hesitation, Kuronosuke fled from his chair and dived down into the freezing water. It pounded against his body, but he still managed to take hold of the cat, which was shivering down to her bones with fright. He, now soaking from head to toe, swam back onto the land, rubbing his new friend for warmth.

The girl burst out of her father's arms and ran to the coastline, overwhelmed with glee. Baka gave a kind look to the cat, rubbed her gently between her ears, and handed her back to her owner.

The girl's father hurried over to ask if he was alright, and Kuronosuke smiled sheepishly at him. When _his_ father came over, however, the smile quickly disappeared from his face, replaced by a deep crimson blush.

"Kuronosuke de Baka, have I taught you _nothing!_ How dare you… Just imagine, my _son_ jumping into the water like a fool! And what for?"

"Her cat was drowning, father!"

He went on, as if he hadn't heard his son speak a word. "I see you find your father's work so…so…uninteresting that you dare arise from you chair—"

'Excuse me, sir, but I believe it was very kind of your son to rescue my cat. For that I am eternally grateful." The girl tugged gently on his pants, cutting him off from his speech. "If not for him, Kirara would've drowned."

His father exhaled a long sigh and turned his gaze to the gentleman before them, who smiled a bit hesitantly and held out his left hand.

"Yuudai Youkaitashi, I _am_ most sorry-"

"My good man, you have nothing to be sorry for. Without my daughter's cat, I don't know where'd she'd be. Kirara is our best friend. Isn't that right, Kirara?" He scratched her underneath the chin, causing her to produce little purrs.

The conversation to follow was long and dreary- at least to the two kids. The boy turned his attention back onto the little girl, however, since he was shy, he didn't know what to say or do. He felt rather stupid as he felt his cheeks become heated again.

She was quite shy too. "Hello, my name is Sango." She managed to say, giggling. "Thank you…for saving my friend." When Kuronosuke didn't answer, she blinked at him and cocked her head. "What's the matter? Don't you talk much?"

"I do…" His voice trailed off into a whisper.

"Don't you…want to talk to me?" she asked.

"Yes…"

"What of?"

He honestly didn't know, so he settled for, "You?"

"Mew!" Kirara said from relaxing on Sango's shoulder.

"I think he was speaking to me, girl." Sango placed a hand over her mouth. It seemed that Kuronosuke and Sango hit it off. Sango chatted happily of her and her father's travels, and how she someday wished to be a Prima Donna.

Kuronosuke found himself wishing he could have visited all of the places she had. He had been confined most of his life in the de Baka mansion, and only got out occasionally to go to the city or visit some rich relative.

He didn't have much time to escape into his mind though, for Sango began talking about the stories her father told her before she fell asleep at night. Some were of fairy tales, of classic witches, globins, princes and beautiful princesses with glass slippers and hair of gold. Most of them, though, were the stories of a curious little girl, Little Lotte, and her Angel of Music.

Right away, Sango's eyes misted over with a dreamy look, as she began to talk about the Angel of music. She began reciting an expert from 'Little Lotte's Guardian of Music.' They were her absolute favorite, and Kuronosuke was almost envious at the compassion the small girl felt for this Angel. But he quickly erased all thoughts—she didn't really like the angel, of course. That was just ridiculous! There was no such thing as an _Angel of Music_, and _any_ young girl would love a fairy-tale person. They were always their dream.

He sulked a little bit when she said, "I can't wait for my Angel to visit me! It would be great! Father promised that he would, too! He said if the Angel hadn't visited me by the time he died, he'd personally send him down to me. I believe him very much! Isn't it wonderful, Kuronosuke?" Sango sighed.

"Yes, very…" He replied, trying to hide the jealousy hidden within his voice.

All the sudden, Sango sung into the air, "Little Lotte let her mind wander…Little Lotte thought: Am I fonder of dolls…or of goblins or shoes…or of riddles or frocks… or of chocolates…"

This beguiled his sad fancy into smiling. Sango had the voice of a seraph of heaven. It was a bit immature but most definitely mesmerizing. She continued with over flowing feeling.

"No, what I love best, Lotte said, is when I'm asleep in my bed, and the Angel of Music sings songs in my head…" she paused, collapsed to the sand and looked into darkness. "…The Angel of Music sings songs in my head…"

His shyness was long forgotten, "Come now, Little Lotte, we can't have you singing about songs in your head. People will suspect things…" The playfellow sat down next to her, brushing a handful of dust onto her dress, teasingly.

Sango sat up, eyed him and grinned. "So you're making fun of me now?" And she pushed him to the ground so that his body was flat against the earth. "Is that true?"

"Of course not!" He laughed, looking up at her. The sand was sticking in his wet hair and clothing. The two fathers watched from the sidelines, silently agreeing that their two children should visit each other more often. They needed more to be with people their own age. Perhaps, in later years, their friendship would become something far more valuable…


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter II**

٭ ٭ ٭

As time passed, Sango and Kuronosuke became closer. Sango's father had even offered to teach the young lad how to play the violin. After discovering that his fingers failed to coax the beautiful sounds out of its strings, Kuronosuke quickly gave the violin up, and came to the obvious conclusion that he was 'musically challenged.' Through the years, the de Baka quickly found that Daddy Youkaitashi's fairy tales of the North had brightened his childhood just has it had blessed Sango's. However to Kuronosuke's disgust, his childhood sweetheart still held that special place in her heart: for the Angel of Music. He had argued about the topic many times before, but Sango still refused to believe the fact that this angel was only something lingering in her imagination. So she continued talking of it with desire that made Kuronosuke sick in the pit of his stomach. Eventually, the boy matured into a man, and the older he got, the less he came to visit. Soon, he stopped coming all together.

Sango was devastated at first, but slowly got used to it. Her father kept her occupied with her dancing and singing. When she got lonely, Kirara would curl up into a comfortable position on her lap, and her father would read them stories about their Angel.

At age fifteen, Sango still strongly believed that her Angel of Music was real. At night, the cat would whine, because she hated seeing Sango in such a saddened state of mind. The girl would cry rivers into the fabric of her pillow, and clutch it tightly to her chest. Why wasn't her Angel coming? Had she been naughty? For angels don't shed their grace on naughty children. Yuudai tried his best to assure his daughter that her Angel _would_ come, and he meant it more than anything. It was only a matter of time. She must be more patient.

"Remember Sango, if he hasn't found you before I die, I will send him down to you. This I will, and this I promise.

She looked up at him with glassy eyes. "I know father, perhaps I'm just waiting too hard. I mean, my angel will probably appear at the most unexpected of times, right?" Sango pet Kirara, gazing down at her, "I just hope I don't wait too long. I want this more than anything."

"Don't worry so hard, Sango. He will come." Her father leaned forward and pressed a light kiss atop her forehead. "Now get some sleep, it's late."

She shut her eyes and snuggled into the warmth of Kirara's fur. "I love you, Father. More than anything."

"And I you, my Little Lotte."

Over the next year, Yuudai Youkaitashi's health slowly became weakened. However, he went on with his daily life, thinking nothing of it.

٭ ٭ ٭

For her sixteenth birthday, there came a call that the de Baka carriage was waiting outside the door. Sango was ecstatic, blew her father a kiss and rushed outside to Kuronosuke.

Kuronosuke tried his best to put on a smile. He knew something Sango didn't. While Sango was dumbfounded to the fact that he had come to visit, Yuudai had taken him into a sound proof room, and informed the young man that his time on this earth was thinning, and he was terrified that Sango would be alone in this world. To which, Kuronosuke replied: She has me. Quickly, he sprinted out and pretended to knock on the door again; leaving Sango unaware that he had any other business in the household.

Sango was disappointed and very much shocked to learn that she didn't like Kuronosuke nearly as much as she believed she did. Something about him had changed something she couldn't quite place her finger on. It seemed that he cared more and more about that boring family business and not the memories of their childhood together. The things he used to enjoy had been put up onto a dusty shelf within his heart. Every time she tried to bring up the old stories, he got an annoyed look on his face and told her not to speak so childishly.

Kuronosuke was upset that this beautiful young woman still believed in fairy tales. He put up with it for a bit, but as soon as she started on _that_—The Angel of Music—he stopped her. Never did he wish her to be silent more than that moment. Right now wasn't the best time to bring up that tale, nor was it ever. He couldn't believe it, but it actually annoyed him beyond all reason. His gentlemen disguise was wearing away, as Sango pressed on. She wanted to discuss the Angel with someone so badly—she was worried that she had offended her Angel in some way, and that he decided her not worthy to come to.

Kuronosuke was insanely—and, even he admitted, foolishly—jealous over her obsession with this Angel, and suddenly he burst out, "There _is_ no Angel of Music!"

Sango stopped and stared at him, the deep hurt showing crystal clear in her eyes. Kuronosuke immediately regretted the previous statement, but regretting didn't take back what he said.

"You…You don't truly believe that, do you?" She asked him. He couldn't bear to meet her eyes. They were wide, surprised, and confused. How could her childhood friend betray her beliefs like that?

"I…" Kuronosuke looked up at her, preparing to tell her that yes, he did indeed believe that, and that the Angel of Music was a foolish children's tale made up to put young girls to sleep, but he found he couldn't. "Of course I don't, Sango, forgive me."

Sango nodded, however she found herself no longer talking about her Angel with him.

When Kuronosuke left her that day, pressing his lips to her cheek, he decided it was best if he not return for a while. At least until Sango got some sense knocked into her, to rid her of the childish notions in her head.

٭ ٭ ٭

Yuudai watched the de Baka carriage pull out of the driveway, and sighed. He could guess what had happened, for he knew how different the two were now.

Kuronosuke had grown up quite a lot since he had last visited, and had expected Sango to be as sophisticated and mature as he was.

However, his dear Sango had remained the innocent girl she always had been.

Yuudai came out from his office after Sango had gone in her room, and found a bouquet of flowers in the waste can. Flowers from Kuronosuke. He sighed, picked them out carefully, and placed them in a vase on the desk outside his office. Sango would eventually come around, but now, he thought it best to just leave her be.

٭ ٭ ٭

The time came when Sango's father's sickness had taken him, leaving Sango distant with a lonely look in her wide hazel eyes. She was forced from the death bed, tears dripping down her fragile cheeks, screaming.

Her father did love her dearly, she knew that. Sango just wished that she had realized he was ill. She felt so stupid, and after a half-an-hour of letting tears flow, she brought her head up from Kirara and whispered, "I love you, father."

After all, tears are the first step to recovery…


	3. Chapter 3

**Phase 2: Killing a Man…**

**Christine**: (happily sitting sown on the river bank, waiting patiently for Erik) Let's see, I've read _The Phantom of the Opera_ by Gaston Leroux, _Phantom_ by Susan Kay, and now I'm reading yet another version by David Bischoff. It will probably be as wonderful as the others! (Opens book to a random page and starts reading.) … … … (Eyes widen) BOOK OF EVIL! (Flings it into Miroku)

**Miroku**: (catches book) What is it, Mikomi-sama?

**Christine**: You! (Stomps over to Miroku) You influenced this author! Damn you, Miroku!

**Miroku**: W-what did I do?

**Christine**: This David Bischoff made Erik perverted! It was like my darling was only after Christine's body, and he was downright heartless! Are you happy, monk? You have ruined my romantic visions and fantasies! (runs away, sobbing) GO TO YOUR ERIK LESSONS! Be less of a hentai! Fight the urge!

**Erik**: (tapping foot) Miroku! What have you done now? Come here at once and practice how to properly kill a man! (Pulls out a Punjab lasso) Now you either come to me, or I shall through your body in the Torture Chamber. Does that sound intriguing to you?

**Miroku**: (Sighs) This just isn't my day…

**Strange Duet**

Chapter III: The Opera Ghost

Kagome Higarashi pressed her ear up against the door, listening for the sound of a silent gliding across the corridor. Rin and Shippou trembled in her arms, waiting for an answer. The other ballet girls scrambled around Kagome as if they were a flock of sleep.

"Is the coast clear, Kagome? Is the Opera Ghost gone?" Shippou lowered his hands from in front of his face, Rin cuddling into him for protection.

"Don't be such a baby, Shippou!" Inuyasha Taisho smirked, taking a place next to him. He bent down to eye level, and made it so their nose's brushed the tips of each other. "Why do you see for yourself?"

"Kagome! Inuyasha's being mean!" The kitsune squealed, running up onto her shoulder, where he hid himself between her long raven-black strands of hair.

"Inuyasha! Don't scare the children!" She argued, hearing the hanyou burst into a loud, pleasing laughter. "You're not even supposed to be here! This is the ballet girls' dressing room, go back to stage crew!" Taking hold of a mop, a smooth white hand forced the handle into Taisho's clawed one.

Inuyasha clasped it with a snort. "I was just having fun with him! It's not like the Opera Ghost will _personally_ kill him. I mean, just looking at the specter makes people want to keel over and die! They say that his skin stretches over him, like yellow parchment. And-and he has a big gaping black hole, served as the nose that never grew! As for the ghost's eyes, people say that they're the only ones able to see gleaming at you in the dark." He lowered his voice, "A true death's head." Then Inuyasha leapt onto his feet and turned the knob to the hallway. "Of course, those are only rumors…"

"Oh yeah, wonderful bedtime story, Inuyasha!" Kagome folded her arms, turning herself from him. "Shippou and Rin will be scared stiff! They won't fall asleep for nights!"

"Too bad for them…" Inuyasha sung, kicking his feet and the air and whistling a happy tune.

"Just go back to stage crew!" The young woman yelled, pointing an index finger towards the exit.

"I'm going, I'm going!" The demon said, sticking his head out to check if anyone was in fact, there. "Hey, guys! Look at this!"

xxxxxx

Sango kept her head down as she entered the Opera House. She felt shy and alone, which was very unlike her ever since…well, she didn't like to discuss he father's death. She hadn't spoken much since her father died; now it seemed like only a distant memory, when she used to be that cheerful, talkative girl. Sango clutched at the few belongings she had left. Among them were her clothing, some memorabilia from her father, a few gold coins for money, and, of course, her father's violin.

As she entered, a kind, old looking woman dressed all in black walked up to meet her. The lady had grey hair (from age) that was pulled back into a neat low ponytail, tied with a white cloth.

She was shortly followed by a gaggle of girls. They were all various ages, and were all dressed in tights and tutus. Several other ballet girls…

They began to whisper and mutter when they saw her, and Sango flinched as if being picked on.

The lady in black, without even turning to face the girls, bellowed a loud sound, sounding through the populaire. "Silence!"

The girls froze and stood up straight.

The lady smiled at Sango. "Hello, you must be our new arrival, Sango Youkaitashi. I am Lady Kaede."

Sango gave a faint smile and shook Lady Kaede's hand politely.

"Pleased to meet you Madame." She said softly, blushing a bit.

xxxxxx

"What are they talking about?" Kagome hurried to the door.

"How am I supposed to know?" Inuyasha said, his eyes glued to the newcomer.

Kagome yanked a white dog ear. "Hello! Use these!"

"Don't treat me like a dog!" Growling, he took Kagome's chin between his thumb and forefinger.

"Please?" She cooed.

'_Damn her and her cute face!'_ "Fine!"

Inuyasha sat at the door, his furry ears twitching.

"Well?" said the ballet girls' eagerly.

"She's a new chorus girl…" Inuyasha reported.

"Anything else?"

"And Kagome has to show her to her room!"

Kagome instantly fled.

xxxxxxx

"I'm so sorry that your father died. That must've felt horrible!" Grey eyes escorted Sango to her room, filled with sympathy. "But you probably didn't want me to bring it up, did you? Oh, I feel so dumb-"

Sango shook her head, "It's okay."

Kagome sighed in relief. "I'm glad you forgive me. Sometimes I say things before I think about them first. It's really a bad habit." She decided to change subjects as Sango glued her eyes to the floor. "You know…we could be friends! Would you like that?"

Sango smiled a little bit. "Yes, I would." It was nice to have someone to talk to that was her age, for once. Well, listen to, anyway. Kagome Higarashi promised to tell her all of the best gossip, and her opinions on what was fact or fiction.

When they had almost reached Sango's new room, Kagome added, "And then, of course, there's our resident ghost."

She looked proud of this fact.

"Ghost?" Sango asked.

"Yup… He takes the form of a man all in evening dress. Sometimes, when he's pleased with a performance, he leaves people a single red rose. You can always tell when it's from him, though.

"And how is that?" Sango brightened, playing along.

"He ties the rose with a deep purple ribbon. Lady Kaede said it was purple, _I_ think it's black."

Sango tried not to laugh. This was obviously some kind of trick! Who really believes in ghosts, after all? "And have you ever seen this ghost?"

"Of course! I was the _first one_ to ever see him."

For some reason, this didn't surprise Sango in the least.

"At every opening performance, he sits in Box Five. It's reserved for him. My mother helps him, too."

Sango turned to Kagome, shocked. "Your mother believes-"

"Oh, yes! She's even talked to him. She says he's actually very kind and gentlemen like. He leaves her payment services in Box Five. Guess what? He also gets a salary. The managers leave him one—20,000 francs a month! Wow! That's a lot, don't ya think? I've never even seen that much money in my entire existence!"

Sango was going to point out that Kagome was only 15, and still had plenty of time to live her life, so her entire existence wasn't really that long, but Sango thought the better of it and decided not to be rude with a potential friend.

"I heard he lives under the Opera House, in the cellars down there. Maybe he was buried there!"

Sango wanted to laugh at this, but didn't. She didn't want to offend Kagome, who seemed to believe so strongly in this ghost, as if she would die for her beliefs…

They finally reached Sango's new room, and Kagome unlocked the door for her, placing the key in her hand.

"Meet us downstairs, okay? You have ten minutes before rehearsals start… do you think you can find the way back by yourself?"

Sango nodded and Kagome left with a smile.

The new chorus girl turned to her new bed and placed her belongings on it, carefully setting the violin on top.

"Angel of music, guide and guardian…grant to me your glory…" she sang softly to herself, almost not realizing she was singing. Tears welled up in her eyes. "Oh, Father! I miss you so much!"

Suddenly Sango shivered, feeling as though she was being watched. She turned and quickly walked out after Kagome.

Unseen, a pair of violet eyes followed her progress, the owner still thinking of her heavenly voice.

xxxxxxxxx

**Phase 3**: Singing Lessons…

**Erik**: (puts an arm around Miroku's shoulder) Miroku, there comes a time in every man's life when-

**Miroku**: Yes, yes, I had this talk all ready!

**Erik**: No, not _that_ talk…

**Miroku**: What talk then?

**Erik**: You must sing, my friend! Look beyond, there's a whole world waiting to hear your voice! You must breathe music, live music, _be _the music! You _are_ the Angel of Music! Sing it with me: I am your Angel… Come to me: Angel of Music!

**Miroku**: (trying to duplicate) I am your Angel… Come to me: Angel of Music!

**Erik**: That was good, try to be more…_hypnotizing_…

**Miroku**: (low, seductive yearning voice) I am your Angel… Come to me: Angel of Music!

**Erik**: Good, good! Now let's test!

(Goes to get Sango)

**Miroku**:I am your Angel… Come to me: Angel of Music!

**Sango**:(walks up to Miroku in a trance-like state, longing for him)

Erik: (crying) I'm… so…PROUD! BRAVI BRAVI BRAVISSMI! … … … Wait, Miroku, don't you _dare_ defy me-!

**(Slap!)**

**Erik**: (deep sigh) Unworthy fool with a filthy hand…


	4. Chapter 4

**Phase 4: Obsession…**

**Erik: **Now Miroku, I'm going to show you a series of inkblots. If all of them appeal to you, tell me what you see. By your results, I will tell you your outcome. First one (holds inkblot up)

**Miroku**: Sango.

**Erik**: And this?

**Miroku**: Sango again.

**Erik**: How about-

**Miroku**: Sango in a bathtub (pauses) with a bathing suit on of course!

**Erik**: (rolls eyes) Next?

**Miroku**: Sango in a tree.

**Erik**: Another one…

**Miroku**: Sango and myself, kissing.

**Erik**: And the last one…

**Miroku**: Cheese.

**Erik**: Excuse me?

**Miroku**: It appears to be cheese…

**Erik**: All right, then. Sir, you have successfully passed the inkblot test with the conclusion that you are either obsessed with Sango, or deeply in love with her. This is good, for this is how us Opera Ghosts think. However, I am a bit baffled by the last inkblot. Where exactly do you see the cheese? (Looks at the card) oh, never mind, I see it now.

**Strange Duet**

Chapter IV: Wait No Longer

Rehearsals were only a little bit confusing for Sango. Apparently, they weren't putting on any performance yet, but would be beginning the new production of _Hannibal_ in only a short matter of time

Sango sang softly in the chorus as they practiced, preferring to blend in with her peers, for she was too shy to believe that anyone would be kind enough to compliment the new girl. Sango knew that she sang well, but she didn't think she was half as good as anyone else there. Besides, she had promised herself she wasn't going to sing again. Her father and his tales only seemed to depress her more, so the young woman just thought it for the better if she not sing ever again.

After practice, Sango wandered around the Opera House. She still couldn't shake off the feeling that she was being watched, which frightened her, causing Sango's flesh to pale. To calm herself, she began to sing little melodies to her shadow casted over the floor, created by the gas-lit lamps that hung vertically from their hinges on the walls.

At first, she began quietly, not wanting to draw attention to herself or her surroundings. Then, when she realized that no one else was around, she became more confident with herself and allowed her voice to become gradually louder, but still not loud enough for _most_ people to notice. All thoughts of not singing again were gone from her mind, and Sango put all of her feeling into her song as she sang. It was a sad song—a lonely song, filled with emotion that Sango had kept bottled up inside of her for a long time.

She suddenly stopped as she realized she had reached her new room. Relieved that she wasn't lost, but slightly disappointed she couldn't sing any longer, (she was certain that someone would hear her), Sango went inside and collapsed to the bed, her brown hair spreading out over the silk bedspread.

It was late afternoon, almost evening, and she was already bored. After a little while, she stood up and decided to go find Kagome.

xxxxx

Miroku watched as the new chorus girl, Sango, finished practice and walked by herself down the hallway. Oh, her voice! Her wonderful voice of an angel!

Miroku followed her down the hallway through a series of passageways that ran parallel to the one Sango was walking in. He listened as she grew more and more strong with her voice, and lost himself in it. It was so innocent and pure, and she put so much feeling into it. Miroku, who had nothing else to do, decided to keep following her even after she finished singing.

He took note of the room Sango resided in, and then followed after her as she left to find her friend.

xxxxx

"Kagome?" Sango nearly rammed right into the ballerina in the hallway.

"Sango! How's life in our Opera House treating ya?" She winked, cupping Shippou's hand with hers.

Sango smiled and looked down at the little boy. "It's really nice Kagome…but there's not a lot to do on your free time, is there?"

Kagome glanced at Shippou, who nodded about something and grinned. "Great! Then you wouldn't mind talking to us, would you?"

"Why were you running?" Sango asked at once, for, indeed, they had met on a crossway and Kagome had been flinging the red-headed boy behind her in a furious sprint

"Kaugra, another ballet girl, claims she saw the ghost! I wanted to see him again, too."

"Not me," quivered Shippou.

"And who are you?" Sango chirped to the little one.

"I'm Shippou. I'm one of the male dancers. I help Rin-chan with her act, and people always pay good money to see two cute little kids like us, prancing around." Shippou flashed another grin. "Of course, I was a bit embarrassed at first. I'm a man, you know! Men do not dance. But I quickly found out that dancing is a fun way to pass the time, no matter what any arrogant, selfish dog demon said." He finished with a huff.

Kagome bent down to look at him, "And I suppose you wouldn't be talking about Inuyasha, when you say that?"

"Inuyasha?"

"Inuyasha is part of the stage crew. He picks on poor Shippou a lot, but one day, he's got it coming!" The maiden informed Sango.

"Practically every day!" Shippou sighed.

Sango laughed at this. "So did you ever find this Opera Ghost?"

"No. I think that Kaugra made it up," to which Shippou murmured lowly, "Thank goodness…"

'_I think that you two made the whole thing up...'_ Sango thought to herself, but said nothing.

Kagome changed the subject. "Anyway, I've told you so much about myself, I'm sure it's getting really boring. You haven't told me _anything_ about you! Why don't you tell me about your home? What of your friend and family?"

Sango bit down on her lip, and then shrugged. She might as well tell them…

"My…my father liked to travel a lot, so I guess you could say I lived in more than just one place. We went all over the world, and saw all different kinds of people. He used to play the violin while I sang with him." she sighed. "I miss him."

Kagome placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, while Shippou jumped onto it. "I know the feeling. My father died, too. I was a lot younger than you were, though, so maybe it didn't hurt as much. I can't say I remember him well, and I suppose that saved me a lot of hurt. The only thing I could gather from my mind was when Dad sat me on his lap at night, and rocked me to sleep. Mom was usually the one snoring in the background, so it didn't help much, but it did make me had pleasant dreams, when Papa placed me under the covers of my own bed, and made sure I was safe before he went back to sleep himself. " Kagome giggled, "Mom still snores like a pig, it's funny. She denies it a lot. She never did have that soft rocking of the chair down, but she did manage to sing me to sleep."

Sango smiled. "My father used to tell me stories to make me go to sleep. He had a vast imagination, and he created all sorts of little fairy tales about curious little girls and the trouble they got into. I used to think he purposely made them up to go alone with my personality. My favorite character from his stories was Little Lotte, and the Angel of Music." Sango paused. "The Angel isn't a made-up character though. He's real. That I know."

Kagome raised an eyebrow, a little smile on her face. "Oh, is he really?"

"Yes, he is. Father promised me that when…when he was gone…" She paused, and Shippou eagerly motioned for her to continue. "He promised me that he would send me the Angel of Music. But he hasn't." Sango added bitterly. "Do you know why?"

They frowned and shook their heads.

Sango wiped the tears away and said, "Because I was **wrong**. I lied. I know better now…The Angel of Music _isn't_ real, he was just some silly thing that I refused to let go of. He was one of father's characters too! All of that time, I believed him…I actually believed him! Oh, how naïve I was as a child! In the months since my father died, I waited patiently for him to send me comfort…to send me my Angel. But it was all a lie. He's never coming!"

Sango turned and ran back up the corridor in tears, not caring where she was heading or if she got lost. Maybe she wanted to be lost.

"Sango!"

Kagome and Shippou ran after her, but couldn't catch up. Finally she stopped, breathing heavily, Shippou clinging to her shoulder with might. She was sorry now that she had brought up the topic. Kagome decided to let Sango calm down for a while, and then attempt in finding her.

xxxxx

Sango may have been able to outrun a ballerina, but she couldn't outrun a Phantom. By the time she had reached her room, (which she had ended up going back to), Miroku was already there, waiting for her.

He felt sorry for the girl, who had apparently had lost all faith in her dreams and fantasies. She looked lost, hiding behind something that was not there. He felt strangely connected to her because of this, and, against all of his better sense, decided he wanted to help her.

Miroku watched through the body length mirror as she cried into her bed. For a moment he was silent, not knowing what to do to help. Then, all of a sudden, a light bulb turned on in his head…

"_Sango…"_

xxxxx

Sango looked up, thinking she'd heard her name. After a moment, she thought she was hearing things (which frightened her yet again) and resumed her state of depression.

"_Sango…"_

Sango flinched, choosing not to move. She knew she had heard it this time—A beautiful, addicting male voice, calling her name.

"Who's there?" she asked in her bravest voice, looking around her room. If only Kirara was there. She was probably out searching the grounds, that mischievous cat. She would've felt more sat with another friend in the room to protect her. But there was no one there, at least, no person she could see, unless they were hiding. "Where are you?"

"_I am everywhere and nowhere."_

The voice seemed to come from one place, then another. She couldn't decide where it was coming from, so Sango gave up.

"_Don't be frightened, my dear. I would never think to harm you."_

Suddenly something in Sango's memory clicked. She hesitated, knowing that if she was foolish enough, she would just get hurt again. "Are…are you…"

"_I am the Angel of Music. ** Your** Angel of Music"_

Sango's heart became light. Her Angel! Could it be! Her father had promised her… maybe it was true after all…

"Angel? My father…he sent you? Do you lie_?" 'Oh, of course angels don't lie! Stupid Sango, stupid!'_

"_Yes, Sango. I am your Angel."_

She pinched herself. This had to be a dream, it just had to be! But then again… Sango had finally gotten her Angel; she had finally gotten what she had desired for so long.

xxxxx

Miroku wasn't sure what to do next. What was the Angel of Music supposed to do? How do angels act?

He finally decided that, from what he heard, the Angel was some sort of tutor.

"_With me helping you, your voice will soar to new heights. You will be the Prima Donna, Sango… You will be more than what you ever dreamed."_

Sango was beaming now. "Just like father said…"

"_Your father was right. Sango, child, I must go now. I will come back tomorrow evening at this time with some music for you to practice. Don't be late."_

"You promise, Angel?"

"_I promise."_

"Oh, Angel!" Sango breathed. "How happy you have made me!"

xxxxx

**Phase 5: Learning to face the facts…**

**Christine**: I'm going to help you _both_ on this one. Miroku, you've just spent nine hours in a chair, putting on make-up, how does it make you feel?

**Miroku**: (looks into mirror at his now, exposed deformed face) I'm hideous! I thought make-up was supposed to make one beautiful, not a monstrosity. I'm outraged, Mikomi-sama. Nine hours, for _this_! (Points to his face)

**Erik**: Watch who you're calling a monster! My face is the real thing!

**Christine**: (gently) Miroku, it was necessary for you to be deformed, it goes along with the whole theme thing.

**Miroku**: And what is that?

**Christine**: Learn to love others based on their soul, and not their appearance, or in your case, your perverted ness. Besides, I happen to think you two are handsome either way. Repeat after me: I am handsome

**Erik and Miroku**: We are ugly…

**Christine**: Close but, no. We are handsome.

**Erik and Miroku**: (quietly) We are handsome…

**Christine**: Louder.

**Erik and Miroku**: We are…

**Christine**: Go on…

**Erik and Miroku**: Ugly.

**Christine**: (getting annoyed) Both of you, you two are handsome, dare I say it, beasts! Say it like you mean it!

**Erik and Miroku**: WE ARE HANDSOME BEASTS!

**Christine**: Very good!

**Erik**: … but a beast nonetheless.

**Christine**: …


	5. Chapter 5

**Strange Duet**

Chapter V: Angel of Music

The following day, Sango waited faithfully in her room for her Angel. She only hoped that this was not some cruel tricked, used for the fun of deceiving her. And yet she waited, joyful as ever.

When the soft rhythm of the clock ticked the hour her Angel would arrive, Sango's heart was pounding as if she were a hummingbird. This was it, he would come.

So, Sango waited...

No one came. She didn't hear anything.

Sango wanted to break down into tears of hilaria. She'd been tricked… again! For a moment Sango entertained the thought that her Angel might be late, brushed it aside.

'_Angel's are never late!'_

There was the softest scratching of something clawing at her door. Sango opened it, not surprised to see Kirara trotting in. She hopped in the bed, and made a lap around it twice (as if she were a dog) before placing her body down on Sango's blankets.

Sango gave a half smile. "While I'm glad you like it here, Kirara. I don't know if I can stand this place for much longer. I can't even stand this room."

xxxxx

Miroku dashed up the passageways in the dark, not bothering to bring a torch. This didn't bother him, however—he had a knack for seeing things in the dark.

He cursed himself as he ran, the only time in his life he'd ever been angry at getting caught up in his music for too long. How could he? How could he betray the poor child, who had only wanted comfort? How _dare_ he!

Miroku only hoped that he wasn't too late...

By the time he made it to her mirror, she was half way out the door.

_No! _He couldn't let her. He couldn't let her believe that her Angel had forsaken her.

"_Sango!"_

xxxxx

Her foot was placed out the door when she heard it—The beautiful voice from the night before. It whispered her name, the voice so faint that she almost didn't hear it. Was it her, or did it sound _tired_

"Angel?" Sango began to amylase things more clearly. If this was someone playing a prank with her, they certainly had no right to be called an Angel.

"_I am here, Sango."_

"You're late." she sounded a bit angry, bitterness flavoring her voice

There was a long, remorseful silence.

"_I know. I for that, I am sorry. I was…busy, if you will. Forgive me."_

Sango hesitated. If this really _was_ an angel, he might get irritated at her asking… but she ached to know. "What do Angels such as yourself, do?"

"_Creativity is something I admire, Sango. I write my music, and I compose it."_

"Oh?"

"_Sometimes I get so wrapped up in my music, I forget what's going on in the outside world. Please forgive me, Sango. This is very much, my fault."_

Sango blushed. Just imagine! An _angel _begging for _her _forgiveness The Angel of Music, too! Father had done her well, she was truly happy!

"_Sango? I came by this morning and dropped your music off."_

Sango frowned. "I wasn't informed—"

"_In your desk, my dear. Bottom draw. Your cat seems to have found of it…"_

Sango knelt down and pushed Kirara gently aside from picking the lock of the draw.

"Mew!"

"Yes, Kirara? I have to get something in there." She opened the drawer her Angel had indicated, and then pulled out a thick script. On the front in elegant script was proclaimed—_"Hannibal."_

"Oh!" Sango gasped, "It's the opera we're going to perform later on."

"_Yes, it is. And you shall have the lead role."_

Sango's hazel eyes widened in joy.

xxxxx

Miroku felt immediately guilty for telling Sango she would automatically secure the main role in this play. Quite obviously, the managers were going to assign the role to La Kikyo…

Just the thought of that dreadful woman made him wince.

Indeed, she _could_ sing, but her voice was loud and occasionally screechy, and even almost all the time off-key. To be frank, she sounded like a dying ogre.

"_Sango, please open up the script to page fifty-nine. There you will find the piece, "Think of Me." I want you to do your best in singing it."_

Miroku could see her frown through the mirror. "But Angel, I haven't sung it before, and—"

"_I shall accompany you on violin." _he reassured her instantly. He just _needed_ to know if she could sing it. He was walking on the edge of a sword, here… promising her the main role though he was not even sure if she could sing it.

He quickly snapped open the violin case and removed the instrument swiftly.

"_I shall give you a few moments to look over the piece, read the notes and whatnot. Tell me when you are ready."_

xxxxx

Sango skimmed over the piece, slowing down at the hard parts to reassure herself that she knew what to do. When finished, looked up and said," I'm ready, Angel."

The violin started up with the introduction. Sango shuddered at the sound—it reminded her so much of her father. She held back tears, as she remembered the sweet memories of her father playing the violin to her, to rid Sango of her nightmares at night…But now, when he was gone, the Angel would protect her.

She was brought back to earth as she heard her entry, and began singing.

xxxxx

Miroku stumbled for a moment and almost stopped playing to hear Sango's voice better. A voice of an angel, indeed! He almost laughed at the irony of that… here she thought _he_ was an angel! But no… he was truly a monster...

Miroku frowned as he thought of Sango's reaction if she knew what he _really_ was… a beast.

To the rest of the world, he _was a_ demon, while not born of one, Miroku was the worst kind there was to be…

But to Sango, he was an angel…an Angel of Music. For now, he wanted more than ever to believe that…

He smiled softly, something he did rarely.

After a moment, Sango's voice broke his thoughts. "Angel? Do I do something incorrect? You've stopped playing."

Miroku cursed quietly to himself for causing her to stop singing.

"_Of course there is nothing wrong, my Sango, that is all I needed to hear. You have a lovely voice."_

Sango blushed. "Thank you, Angel."

"_You have a very pretty pitch, but you need to put more feeling into your voice. Sango, I want you to pour your _soul_ into your voice."_

Sango shivered. "I will try, Angel. For you, I will."

"_Good. Now, I want you to run a few scales…"_

xxxxx

Over the next few weeks, Sango met faithfully with her Angel at the appropriate hour. Sometimes, she thought that her singing lessons weren't helping her. All he seemed to do at times was criticize her!…How was she learning? But then, gradually, she began to discover that her voice was getting slowly but surely better.

A week ago marked the anniversary of when she had first heard _him_ sing. She shivered in delight as she recalled the memory—he truly was her Angel! That was beyond all doubt, now. His voice freed her soul, and gave her wings!

She found that, as her voice developed, her feelings for her Angel developed as well.

Sango had always had a childish crush on the Angel of Music from her father's tales, but now that she had met the real thing, that feeling had flourished.

Sango felt her cheeks redden…These were not feelings a student was supposed to have for her teacher…no, not at all!

As the days went on, she tried to push the emotion aside, convincing herself that they would only make her look foolish. An Angel was a perfect being! They could never, _ever_ fall in love with someone like her.

But yet, she couldn't help but start to view him as a real person—a real man. And even though she was convinced that he couldn't love her, she was falling hopelessly, deeply in love with him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Strange Duet**

**Chapter VI: A Thin Line **

Today was the rehearsals for Hannibal. Sango wanted to perform her audition piece perfectly for her Angel. Unexplainably, she wanted to prove to him that she was _not_ just some little kid who wanted to be an opera star.

Sango wanted to prove to her Angel that she was more than that. She knew that she was being foolish…she knew deep down that she wanted to impress him so that maybe…just _maybe_…he would love her as much as she already loved him.

Sango practiced the audition piece—Think of Me—tirelessly. She just _had_ to be perfect—for him.

xxxxx

What Sango didn't know was that her "Angel" was already cursing himself for the same reason she was determined to be perfect. He was falling in love with her.

Miroku, of course, would never admit this to anyone, let alone himself. Sometimes, though, he would begin to feel lonely in the cold damp darkness that had so long been his home, and he would see her, pushing stray brown locks behind her ears.

Every time he did this, he would furiously shove the thought out of his mind. She was his student, and he forced himself to think of her this way. Certainly she was beautiful—when she smiled, it lit up his world of darkness, and her eyes would light up with pureness and innocence, that made him buckle in the knees. He envisioned the soft touch of her long, smooth fingers stroking themselves in the cat's fur. He loved to hear Sango talk to that cat, it was adorable.

When Miroku realized how detailed his analysis was of her, he became angry again. One evening, he recalled, he hadn't come to their arranged lesson because he was enraged at himself for being too eager for the lesson for all of the wrong reasons. Sango wailed that night, only hoping that she did not do anything to upset her Angel.

The following evening, Miroku lied that he had gotten caught up in his music again. He knew this was a poor excuse, and was surprised to learn that Sango so easily accepted it. He had felt guilty then…she trusted him too much, when this whole charade was one fat lie.

But his love for her grew every time he met her for her lessons. Each time she sang, each time she smiled, and each time she laughed he was drowning into her.  
Miroku was now on dangerous footing, and he knew it. He was only a hair close to becoming _obsessed_ with her.

He tried to pretend he didn't, but he counted the minutes until their next lesson—until the time he'd be able to see her again. Then, for that one blessed hour, he drank in the sight of her, (however much he pretended he didn't).

One day when he was particularly unhappy and had nothing to do, considering the fact that he wasn't in the mood to compose, he sat down and painted a portrait of her. Then he promptly hid it away in fear that she'd see it. Of course, that was also the day when Kirara managed to find the passageway beyond the mirror, and disappeared into his home for three days.

"What do you think of this, my girl?" Miroku pointed to the oil painting, sitting the friend on his lap. "Sango must never see this, _will_ never see this…"

"Mew!" She purred happily, swiping her paw at it.

"You're quite the curious one, aren't you?" He laughed a bit.

She turned her gaze on his half mask, to which Miroku's smile quickly vanished.

"As long as you do not touch it, Kirara, you are safe here."

"Mew…"

Miroku pledged to himself that, at the very least, he would make this girl a diva…heaven only knew, she deserved it! And her cat, she would be treated like royalty!

xxxxx

At first, Sango didn't even want to check the list of characters that the managers nailed up. She already knew she was in the chorus.

Then a terrifying thought struck her—what if she hadn't even made the _chorus_! Sango hurried up behind the rush of people the check the list herself.

Beside the name of the lead in swirling black letters was the name: La Kikyo.

Sango didn't really know Kikyo too well, (it wasn't as if the diva would stop and talk to her in the hallways), and had only seen her once or twice.

Kikyo was a well built woman, pale and proper. Her hair was raven-back, her eyes grey and she had looked almost identical to Kagome. Sango thought for a brief moment that the two were sisters. That was soon a thought out the window. Kikyo had no care for Kagome at all, and acted as if she were invisible or just another girl in her way. She was a woman only a year or two older than Sango. She was known for her astounding vocal range.

Sango had only heard La Kikyo sing once, and once was enough. It was completely true; the diva had an amazing range… the sound of her voice, however, made Sango wince. It was loud and penetrating, and wavered too much for her taste. Everything about Kikyo was exaggeratingly overdone…everything from her voice, to what she wore, to how she even spoke.

Sango pulled her thoughts back to the list, and scanned down the page. With giddy relief, she found her name under the chorus. She supposed she shouldn't have worried—after a thorough inspection of the list, she found that everyone in the Opera House got a part, whether they were good or not.

'_Now comes the hard part,'_ Sango thought, _'Telling my Angel.'_

Of course, her Angel probably already knew. After all, he _was_ a divine being.

xxxxx

Miroku wasn't surprised as he watched from the shadows of Box Five as Messieurs Kohaku and Hachi announced that they wouldn't be holding auditions. No, he wasn't surprised, but he was still outraged. How _dare_ they! They hadn't even given her a chance!

He raved silently to himself for a few moments, and then regained his composure. Perhaps it was better this way. After all, now all he had to do was get rid of Kikyo. He would continue giving Sango her lessons, and helping her practice the lead role, and then he would make sure that Kikyo got sick on the night she had to perform. Yes, something terribly unfortunate that would cause her not to attend the performance… He laughed to himself.

The managers wouldn't know what struck them. Well…of course, they _would_ know what happened. Or, at least they could guess. They would at _least_ know that the Opera Ghost had something to do with it, he would be sure of that!

xxxxx

The moment Sango stepped into her dressing room, the heavenly voice calling to her.

"_Sango, there is no need to tell me what happened. I already know. Do not worry though, this game isn't over. You shall still have the lead on opening night, so I expect you to practice even harder than the sad excuse for a singer who received **your** part."_

Sango was slightly shocked at the irritation in her Angel's voice. She knew that he wasn't irritated with _her_, but it still scared her quite a bit.

He seemed to realize this, for he quickly added in a soothing voice, _"My dear Sango, I overheard you practicing. There is no doubt in my mind that if there_ had_ been auditions, you would easily have secured the part."_

Sango blushed slightly. So, he was impressed with her… "Thank you Angel, I did it all for you…"

xxxxx

Miroku's breath caught in his throat as he heard her words. _I did it all for you…_

But of course she hadn't done it all for him. She had done it all for her Angel. He was immensely disappointed as he realized this, but quickly pushed all emotion aside.

_God this girl did things to him…_

He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to control himself. He couldn't…_wouldn't_…let her do this to him!

Miroku snapped out of it when Sango's voice met his ears.

"Angel?"

xxxxx

"You didn't leave, did you?" She jumped up.

"_I am here, Sango."_

He sounded a bit off… strained, if you will.

"_We will start working on the script…tomorrow. I think you've had enough for one night."_

"But Angel—" she began protestingly, not wanting him to leave.

"_Yes, Sango?"_

"Well…I…I…" _'I'm doing it again! Arguing with my Angel!_' Quickly, Sango thought of a question to ask, instead of creating a demand. "I was just wondering… Do you have a name?"

There was another pause, and Sango thought he wasn't going to answer. Then, when she was about to give up…

"_Yes."_

She waited almost forgetting to breathe.

"_Yes…I have a name."_

"M-may…may I—"

"_It is Miroku. My name is…Miroku."_

Sango's face broke into a wide smile.

"_Goodnight, Sango. Sleep well."_

"Goodnight…Miroku."

xxxxx

Miroku shivered as she said his name, and then hurried off into the darkness. _Why had he done it? Why had he been so foolish as to give her his real name?_

He had broken down one of the last barriers he had left between him and his growing obsession for her. For now, she wouldn't be addressing her Angel. Now she would be addressing _him._ Because of his blinded idiocy, he might even begin to think that Sango would like him for _him, _and not simply because it was her Angel. But, that would forever be impossible...

Wouldn't it?


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: A Note

Rehearsals for Hannibal began the very next day.

Sango found out almost immediately that her practices started early in the morning, and ended excruciating late at night. By the time she returned to her dressing room, all energy was drained from her.

Sango groaned, "Kagome, they can't expect me to go on like this! I'll die if I don't get any sleep. I'm already worried sick about Kirara. She hasn't shown up in days!" She complained to her newest friend as she departed at the door.

Kagome grinned. "Welcome to the Opera House!" She gave a teasing wink, spun lightly on her heel, and was trotted off.

Sango flopped down on her tiny bed, not even bothering to take off her clothes. The schedule was horrible, and she had the strangest feeling that Sango would never be perky again. Suddenly she wondered if her Angel would be upset for missing her lessons for the day. Surely not… after all, she had been at rehearsals. They would have to move the time of her lessons back a few hours. Sango groaned once more at the thought of staying up any later.

Those were the last thoughts she had before she was asleep.

xxxxx

Miroku watched Sango sleep through the mirror. She looked so sweet and innocent, even though she was exhausted from a hard day's work.

He knew he couldn't wake her up. She deserved to get some sleep this first day, since she wasn't completely used to the harsh schedule of the Opera House. Besides, this at least would put off the moment he had to hear her speak his name again. It was sweet agony—hardly anyone had ever used his name, and those who had had used it out of fear or hate. Sango spoke it with gentle shyness. The problem was, he knew the Miroku she referred to was the Angel of Music, not him. She would never know him for who _he_ was, only for what she thought him to be.

Miroku paced in the dark hallway, trying to think of a way out of this dilemma. He knew that he was falling for the girl, and he didn't like it. The only thing he could think of to do, however, was to leave her completely, and that would break her heart.

No, he couldn't do that. He knew all too well how it felt to be alone in the world.

Miroku cursed silently to himself for the next few minutes, not sure what to do next. Finally, he decided that there was nothing he _could_ do at the moment. He promised himself that he'd keep an eye out for any loophole, though, for he needed to get out of this as soon as possible.

He turned to take one last look at Sango before he left, and frowned.

She was grimacing in her sleep. The bone of her corset was digging into her side, and the heavy stage dress she was wearing was twisted awkwardly around her body.

Miroku hesitated for a moment. _Surely it wouldn't matter if he only removed her dress and corset, for her comfort. She'd still have her shift on…it wasn't as if she would be naked, or anything…_

Sango whimpered slightly in her sleep, and Miroku made up his mind. Quickly he went to the mirror and started to push it open.

Once again, he froze. What if she woke while he was removing it? What would she do?

He paused a moment longer before also dismissing that from his mind. She was clearly worn-out from the practice, and probably wouldn't even notice.

Besides, if he didn't do anything, she would have a troubled sleep, and wouldn't be fully rested in the morning.

Miroku pushed all other doubts from his mind, steeled himself, then pushed the mirror open and stepped into the room.

A shiver went down his spine as he realized that this was the first time he'd been in the same room as Sango, where she could see him. He began to rethink what he was doing, and then cut the thoughts short. He had nothing to worry about. She wouldn't wake.

Quickly and quietly he closed the distance between them, the only sound being his cape rustling gently on the carpet.

When he reached Sango, he was hesitant to actually touch her. Using as little physical contact as possible, and silently thanking himself for wearing gloves, he undid the laces to first her dress, then her corset. He felt terribly perverted by his actions, no matter how little they were, well, because…

He _liked_ it.

Miroku pulled the covers up over her, and trembled at the warmth he could feel through the leather of his gloves.

Miroku hurriedly picked up the dress and corset, and stored them back in Sango's closet.

Assured that she was now comfortable, he took a step back towards the mirror.

He knew he shouldn't look back, but he did anyway. Suddenly he found himself captivated by the soft locks of hair that fell across her face.

He wondered what it would feel like to touch those fine brown strands, and to brush them out of her face.

Without even a second thought, he walked back over to her bedside and carefully removed his left glove. As soon as he had done so, he knew it was stupid. There was no turning back now, though.

Miroku cautiously reached down and brushed the strays back behind Sango's ear. They felt as soft as he thought they would.

Sango stirred at his touch, and he jumped back about a foot.

_Idiot! Your hand should be cursed! Only a demon would have such lecherous thoughts!_

"Mew!" Kirara placed one paw out of the mirror, jumping softly to the bed to rub up against Miroku. Sango shifted slightly, letting her arm drape over the side of the bed.

"Kirara! Be silent!" Miroku panicked, coming to his senses to slink out of the room.

xxxxx

Sango woke the next morning, pondering her strange dreams. She had dreamed that there was a dark figure in the room with her…

Abruptly she realized that she was only in her shift. She couldn't recall taking it off last night, either…

Kirara was sleeping soundly beside her…

Where had that cat been?

Was _she_ the dark figure?

Sango frowned and got out of bed, walking over to the closet. There was her dress for rehearsals, with her corset underneath.

She bit her lip, trying hard to remember when she had taken it off. After a little while, she admitted to herself that she definitely _hadn't. _But who had?

She wondered this as she dressed, then sat down at her desk to brush her hair. She looked in the mirror as she opened the top drawer, reaching blindly for her brush.

Her hand came into contact, instead, with parchment.

Sango frowned and peered inside her desk to find an envelope addressed to her, along with a red rose tied with a deep purple ribbon.

She gently took the rose out and laid it carefully on the desk top, then slid her finger under the seal of the envelope.

She pulled out the letter, and then slowly unfolded it.

_Dear Sango, _

_I excuse your absence from your lessons yesterday due to severe practice for the upcoming show. However, I expect you to be ready for tonight's lessons, which will begin the moment you return. This shall not be too tiring I assure, not very long either, for I know you are still getting used to the schedule at the Opera House. I will meet you then._

_-Your Angel_

A smile lit Sango's face as she saw the signature. Her Angel had taken the time to write a note to her!

She set it down on the desk with the rose, and then realized there was a post script.

_Next time, Sango, do try to take your own clothes off when you get back at night._


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: The Talk

"Miroku, get your butt off that organ bench and come open the gate!"

Miroku sat bare chested, playing a soft tune from an opera he'd been working on. His cape was long and flowing, hair absolutely perfect, and, not for the first time, the visitor was jealous of this. Oh, the painful irony!

The opera ghost finally noticed the other presence in his cellar, and got up to pull the lever, which opened the gate.

"Inuyasha, my friend! How long it has been, have you faired well?" Miroku replied dryly, partly annoyed to have been interrupted while doing his music. He gave Inuyasha a hand gesture, welcoming him in. Miroku took a chair from the swan room and offered him a seat.

Inuyasha sat, but slowly, as if intimidated.

"Inuyasha, I thank you for making my job far easier. I especially enjoy the effect I have on the ballet. I feel it is my priority to frighten them at least once a day. But lately…" he sighed, "I just haven't found the time."

"Yeah, yeah, the new managers don't know what they're in for, that's for sure! I still don't think it's right to be getting money, just for terrorizing an opera house…"

"Oh, but it is the most entertaining job!" Miroku smirked.

The hanyou narrowed his golden eyes on him. "I hear that isn't the only job you're doing…"

"What do you mean," a heavenly voice of pure sounding innocence swept through the air.

"Cut the crap, Miroku! You know very well what I mean!"

"Inuyasha, your language is quite distasteful" Miroku winced, offering a drink.

He rejected it, and shoved it back into the specter's hand. "There's a new girl in the chorus, a close friend of Kagome's. Ever since arriving here, all she's been mentioning is how the _Angel of Music_ has finally come to her!"

Miroku paled, letting the blood drain from his face. "Who is this girl, Inuyasha?"

Taisho let his voice rise, "Sango," he continued, knowing perfectly well that Miroku was asking questions he already knew answers too "told Kagome how her Angel dropped by last night and left her a note! She has this idea in her head that you're some handsome _god_ who could never love her! She worships you!"

No response.

Inuyasha exhaled deeply, calming down. "You can't go on deceiving Sango; she'll be crushed when she finds out."

Miroku glared at him. "She won't find out."

"Oh?" A snort. "And how would you know?"

He traced a finger around the brim of his wine glass, listening to the tiny squeaks he made by doing so. "Because I will never allow her to see me."

Inuyasha raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? Then how come you were taking her clothes off in her room last night!"

Miroku continued to look down at the glass. "That was different, the girl looked uncomfortable, and it was my right to-"

Inuyasha's eyes widened to the size of milk saucers. "Your _right_? Miroku, you've become a letch!"

The swig of wine that Miroku had taken just seconds before was spit out. "How dare you think of me as such? How dare you try to deprive me of the only thing I've ever loved?" He stood up suddenly and straightened his cape before slinking off to the art studio, where Inuyasha noticed hundreds of Sango drawings hung over the walls. In the corner, he took note, was a life sized mannequin of the beauty.

"There's a thin line, Miroku…" Inuyasha's voice softened.

"A thin line?"

"There's a thin line between love…and obsession." Inuyasha then turned to make his leave. "Just be careful with it…"

Miroku continued to gaze at the spare mask that lie on his art bunch, "And I'm slowly erasing that line, aren't I?" He tuned to look over his shoulder, but Inuyasha had gone.


	9. Chapter 9

Back by popular request-

Phase 6: The Cape Twirl

Miroku: …cape twirl?

Erik: The women love the cape twirl. (Hands him a cloak)

Miroku: (twirls but fails miserably as it becomes draped over his head) …

Erik: That's all right, try again… It's hard the first time.

(Two hours later)

Erik: (irritated) Monsieur! This is the 50th time! It's a cape twirl, not 'Hide N Seek!

Miroku: (a bit nervous by Erik's angry voice and twirls again) Hey, I did it!

Erik: (deep sigh) Finally!

Miroku: (hangs it up on coat rack)

Erik: You're not supposed to hang it up! You're supposed to leave it there on the floor! It sets the drama for the scene! (Anyone notice Erik never hung up his cloak in the lead to Music of the Night?)

Miroku: Oh, fine! (Throws it on ground)

Erik: Nice throw…

Miroku: Thanks…

Miroku and Erik: …

Erik: Want to get some cheese?

Miroku: Sure, why not?

…….

Chapter 9: Nothing's Easy

"What?" Kagome bit down on her lip. "Inuyasha, you-you can't really know-?"

He cut her off in mid sentence. "Yeah, I do know." Inuyasha sighed deeply, slumping his shoulders.

A look of immense shock was sketched plainly across her face. "You know the opera ghost, and you didn't tell me?" She blinked several times, "You made Shippou and Rin and everyone else…they're all scared stiff!"

"It's my job…"

"But…how do you _know_ him?" She asked, dumbfounded.

Inuyasha exhaled another long sigh. "My father was lord of the western lands, and got bored very easily." He slid his back down the nearest wall and sat. "He called forth me and my half brother, Sesshomaru, to go find him some entertainer worthy of performing for a lord. He had heard of some powerful sorcerer who performed great magic and wanted us to seek him out." Inuyasha paused for a moment, "Of course, that stupid brother of mine was too used to being pampered, and didn't want to look for this man my father had heard of, so I went on the journey alone.

While traveling, I found a tent set up by the side of the road. I thought maybe someone could help me find this guy. I was amazed by what I had found. He sat there, writing music upon parchment, dressed all in black with an air of majesty about him. On his face, he wore a white half- mask, which made me even more curious. I almost felt invisible to him; I guess he didn't notice my presence."

Kagome just sat, not saying anything.

"The man finally looked up from his work when he noticed a stray beam of light was shining in on him. He spoke firmly, but I remember his voice as something amazing. He asked me what I was doing in his home," Inuyasha continued, "and I asked him if he would like to accompany me back to my father's palace."

"And?"

"At first, he refused. Only until I told him of the _power_ he would gain from performing for my family, did he agree to come back with me."

"What magic did he do?" Kagome responded, horribly engrossed within Inuyasha's tale.

He smiled at the ground. "The Opera Ghost, as you guys call him, had awesome talent. My servants would dress him up in well made clothes, making sure he was real appealing, and through him out in front of my father. Miroku had the ability to make the dead, dance. He'd sing, and a skeleton would arise from a coffin we'd place next to him. His voice mesmerized the women. At the end of the performance, he'd rip off his mask, shattering his seductive affect. It was a hit."

"But why does he wear a mask?"

Inuyasha stared at Kagome, deciding not to answer that. "But then, Sesshomaru got a wicked idea. He noted how Miroku was a genius and ordered him to build torture chambers in which innocent victims would lose their lives in his traps. Well, whatever… the point is, the opera ghost worked for my father."

"So, what made him come here?"

Somehow, Inuyasha knew that was coming. "Miroku had stolen something of my dad's. He was a master at stealing things without people knowing of it. My father later noticed that his sword, which he used in order to protect my human mother, was gone. Miroku was ordered to be captured and killed. But I had gotten to know Miroku, and thought of him as a friend, so I helped him escape.

My mother and father died soon afterwards, and I set out on my own for a new life. It was later that I found out that the old hag-" Kagome was shooting him death glares at this moment, "I mean, Kaede, had sheltered him done below the Paris opera house. She had hid him from the world and its cruelties. Believe me, being a hanyou was exactly why I couldn't stand living with my dumb-ass half brother. I know exactly what cruelties the world can give. Sesshomaru despises me and my filthy blood, as do most demons. So, I went to live here at the opera house where I could have a normal life and help out Miroku.

Kagome twirled a lock of hair around her index finger, "This angel, Sango's talking about, it's not really an Angel, is it?"

Inuyasha shook his head, "No. …It's the Phantom of the Opera."

"Please," Kagome saddened, "Don't tell Sango this."

"Hell, there's no way I would!"

"Hey, Inuyasha?"

He turned to her, "Yeah?"

"Thanks for telling me everything." And she rested her head affectionately on Inuyasha's shoulder, not noticing his blush.


	10. Chapter 10

Phase 7: The Dropping of the Chandelier

Miroku: Is this safe, sir?

Erik: O-of course it's safe!

Miroku: But if I drop it, will that not result in setting the Opera House on fire?

Erik: Well-I-er-

(Miroku looks down from the stage and sees Kuronosuke talking with Sango)

Miroku: No one messes with my woman! (drops chandelier on Kuronosuke's head) MWAHAHAHAHA! Behold! I have finally brought the chandelier down!

Kuronosuke: . …

(People run in with fire extinguishers and start spraying all over the place)

Erik: (to self) why didn't I do that to the vicomte? (Baffled)

Miroku: And so, the student surpasses the teacher…

Erik: Hush! You're training is far from completed! (Swishes cape jealously and stalks off)

Miroku: (tries to swish is own cape) Erik! The cloak doesn't like me again! I feel hot…

Erik: Monk, this is no time for your perverted games!

Miroku: (Gasps) HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT!

Erik: What is it now? (Turns around) Miroku! Monsieur, you're on fire!

Miroku: (sarcastically) Thank you, I hadn't noticed! (Running around)

Erik: (dumps mysterious, all the sudden appearing, water on Miroku's clothes)

Miroku: (drenched) . . .

Chapter 10: Not so Perfect

Miroku seethed silently to himself as he swept down the dark passageways under the opera house. How _dare_ he! Inuyasha didn't know anything about the situation he was in! How _dare_ he try to reprimand him for something he didn't understand!

Miroku thought for a moment about staying down to his lair and playing angrily on his organ for a while, but then pushed the thought aside. No, Sango would probably be waiting for him.

He took a deep breath. Whatever happened, he _must _control his temper. Sango would not believe that an angel could get angry. He mustn't shatter her illusions. Not yet. Hopefully never…

Once more Miroku swiftly made his way through the shadows up to the mirror to her dressing room. He had been too preoccupied to realize that he had forgotten his violin. Miroku got there just in time to see Kagome leaving.

xxxxx

Sango hummed to herself as she went back over to her bed and picked up her book. She almost immediately dropped it, however, when she heard her name being called. She looked up eagerly. "Angel?"

"_Forgive me if I came too soon for your liking. I noticed that you were let off early today, and decided you could do with a bit of extra practice."_

Sango winced slightly. _Did he still think she was that bad?_ "Oh, no, Ang…Miroku, I've been waiting for you for a while. I thought you might come earlier. As a matter of fact…" She smiled a bit devilishly, "You're _late_."

There was a small silence. For a moment she was afraid she offended him—sometimes, she noticed, he got upset over the smallest of things—but then he answered, _"Well, I suppose if you put it _that_ way…"_

She grinned. "Well, Miroku! I don't think it was very polite for you to keep me waiting! However," she straightened out the folds of her dress, "what are we going to work on today?"

"_Third page of the second aria. You still haven't got the shaping of the phrases right."_

Sango bit back a sigh, and picked up the script from where it lay on her bed. She flipped to the right page, and looked up expectantly.

There was a long pause.

"Miroku… is something wrong?"

It sounded as if he hesitated for a moment. _"Sango… I don't suppose…I don't suppose you'd like to sing a cappella today?"_

She frowned. "Why? Do you…do you not _want_ to play for me?"

"_No, my dear, that's not the case…You see, I…I…_" More silence. Finally, in a voice that sounded just a bit too rushed, he told her, _"I forgot the violin."_

There was a shocked silence. Then, with amusement just beginning to creep into her voice, Sango said, "What? You…_forgot_ the violin?"

Then she burst into uncontrollable laughter.

xxxxx

'_Brilliant. Just Brilliant.' _Miroku thought bitterly to himself. Angels _didn't_ forget these kind of things. It wasn't in their nature to be forgetful. At least, he told himself quickly, in stories they weren't. But then, what did he know of angels? Perhaps Sango wouldn't notice.

He glanced back up at her. She was laughing so hard she had to lean against the bed post for balance.

_No, she definitely noticed._

xxxxx

When Sango finally recovered from her bout of giggles, she took a deep breath and said, "Can't you just go get it? I mean, if you teach me from your home…"

"_I don't."_

"Oh." Was it just her, or did he sound just a tad bit _sulky_? Actually, though, she didn't mind his mess-up. It made him seem more…more human. Not so perfect. Was she rubbing off on him? Surely this wasn't angel behavior! "Very well then, Miroku, I have an idea. Since apparently you're too _lazy_ to get your own violin," she grinned at the jibe, "Perhaps you could use this one."

Sango made her way over to the chest in the corner of her room, and opened it. Carefully, she removed her father's violin. She stared at it for a moment. The last time it had been played, it had been played by her father on the day he died.

Sango took a deep breath, and then stood up with the violin hugged to her chest. It would be an honor to have her Angel play it.

"This is my father's violin. If…if you can come get it, and if you will return it afterwards, you may play it. But…" she hesitated, "Be careful?"

"_Of course I shall be careful. Sango, are you sure about this?"_

She nodded. "So you can come get it?"

"_Yes."_

Sango felt a thrill of excitement go through her. Her Angel would be in the room with her! Still, it was kind of strange that he could come _here_ and get this violin, but not go home and get his own… But who was she to argue with angels?

"_Close your eyes, Sango."_

She frowned slightly at that. She had wanted to see him… Perhaps she could peek after a moment…

"_And no looking. I will know if you do."_

It was as if he'd read her mind. Maybe he had. Sango's shoulders drooped slightly, all of her hopes of seeing her Angel quickly evaporating. "I won't look, Miroku. I promise."

She closed her eyes tightly, and thought that she heard something. After a moment, she dismissed it as her overactive imagination.

Suddenly she knew he was there beside her. The violin was carefully taken from her grasp. She bit her lip, trying hard not to open her eyes. It was so tempting…

"Mew…" Sango heard, as Kirara began purring happily at her feet. Oh, why did she have the pleasure to see him? Why couldn't she be that cat?

Suddenly Sango felt a gloved finger on her bottom lip. "No biting." His lovely voice said tenderly. Sango gasped. The voice was right by her ear! She wanted to reach out and touch him… she _knew_ he was there…

Then, as quickly as he came, he was gone. She tried not to let her disappointment show. If only she had stopped him, taken his hand when he'd touched her! After all… he hadn't said not to touch him… only not to _look_ at him…

Suddenly her heart lifted. She felt evil at the thought, but couldn't help remembering that he had to return the violin to her… which meant he'd be in the room with her again…

Sango shivered, either with horror at her thoughts, or with anticipation. She couldn't tell which.

xxxxx

The rest of the lesson passed smoothly. Sango did amazingly well, and by the end, she was sure that Miroku was greatly pleased with her.

When he told her it was time for the lesson to end, she immediately asked for the violin back.

"_Don't worry,"_ he sounded amused, _"It's not as though I'm going to steal it from you… Close your eyes."  
_

Sango's eyes instantly shut, and she held her breath. There was a moment of silence, and then she _felt_ his presence in her room. She wanted to go to him now, but stopped herself. She didn't want him to vanish before she got to touch him…

Suddenly she wondered if he was even solid, or if her hand would go right through him. Then, she remembered his finger on her lips and smiled. No, he at least had a solid, human form when he was down here on earth.

She heard his footsteps get nearer, and then hesitate. "I'll put the violin on top of the chest." he said softly. She nodded, and then followed him over there. His presence was overwhelming… he was only just a foot or two away…

There was the sound of the violin being carefully lain down on the wooden chest, and then she felt him turn to face her.

Sango shivered with excitement… she was so close! She took another step, and then reached out and touched his shoulder.

He stiffened, and immediately backed up. Of course, there was no where to back up to. She had backed him into a corner. Sango's one worry was that he would regain his senses and disappear.

But that didn't happen.

He stood completely still as she took another step forward, and felt for his hand. She took it, entwining her fingers with his. Her heart was beating rapidly as she suddenly closed all of the space between them and leaned against him.

She heard his breath catch in his throat, and her heart skipped a beat. Was this as tempting to him as it was to her?

Sango buried her head in his shoulder. He smelled good—like some kind of spice. She clung tightly to his hand, bringing it to her face. Slowly she removed the glove, letting it drop to the floor, and then pressed his hand against her cheek. His hands were cold, which surprised her. She didn't mind, though, and sighed when he stroked her cheek, then moved it back into her brown locks.

Sango nuzzled closer to him, her face in the crook of his neck. Their bodies were now positioned intimately, legs entwined. She softly kissed the base of his neck, and he let out a soft, yearning moan. His hands traveled down her back… then suddenly he stiffened.

Abruptly she was violently pushed away from him, landing on the floor with bruising force. Before she could even move, he was gone.

Sango opened her eyes, slightly dazed. She pushed herself up and stood, then, quite suddenly, went cold. She sunk down onto the bed, shivering.

_What had she done?_


	11. Chapter 11

Phase 7: Tears

Sango: And…who do I choose again?

Christine: Never mind that for now! Well, Erik and Miroku have had a head start on their lessons, you however… well, you don't need much teaching. Is there anything I can help you with?

Sango: Well, no, I-

Erik: (runs in front of the two) Come back here, Miroku!

Miroku: I don't like this lesson!

Erik: ….Sango doesn't leave you in the end! This-this is just practicing your acting abilities! Can you cry on cue!

Miroku: Then this is to be safe… (Runs and grabs Sango) You belong to _me_! (runs off with her)

Christine: (blink blink) He kidnapped her…

Erik: That's my boy!

Chapter 11: And So it Begins…

Miroku leaned against the cold wall of the passageway, his heart beating rapidly. _What had she done!_

He took a shaky breath and shivered. He wasn't sure if he should be angry at her boldness, or afraid that he had hurt her when he pushed her, or surprised that she had touched him like that.

_Really_ surprised…

He recalled her hand in his, her body pressed to his, her lips on his neck… _What had _possessed _her! Surely that wasn't the way she thought she should treat an angel! But then, he wasn't an angel…_

But she didn't know that. Did she? By all means, she should realize it now. He couldn't believe he had _let _her do that to him… Why had he?

Hot shame rose up in him when he realized exactly why he had let her—he had _wanted _her to. He had wanted her to kiss him, wanted her to… to…

He cut his thoughts off, temper rising again. How _dare_ she make him feel like that! He knew he was being irrational, foolish even, but at the moment he didn't mind. How _dare_ she make him—_him_—want her, when he knew he couldn't have her?

He turned and pounded his fist against the cold stone of the wall. Then he sucked in a breath at the pain. He brought his hand back and stared at it. Of course, he wasn't wearing a glove. _She_ had taken it off.

He watched the crimson blood drip down his hand, his thoughts not even on it. He had been through worse pain than _this_. His temper was still raging, and he felt as if he wanted to destroy something…_anything_.

Suddenly Miroku heard a choked sob come from the room behind him, and he turned to look. It was amazing how quickly his temper disintegrated when he saw Sango lying on her bed, weeping.

Immediately he wanted to go comfort her, but he knew that wasn't an option. He would probably only make things worse. The best he could do right now was go home and cool his temper off. He would deal with this later.

xxxxx

Sango had fallen asleep after a while, and didn't even stir when the dark shape entered her room through the mirror and gently set something on her desk. He began to return back to the shadows, and then suddenly stopped.

He quietly glided back across the room and looked down at the floor beside her bed. It wasn't there. After a moment, he sighed and went back through the mirror.

xxxxx

Sango woke the next morning feeling even more tired than she had the night before. She ached all over, her face felt gritty, and her hair lay in tangles.

She sighed and forced herself out of bed and to her feet, then dragged herself over to the desk. She didn't want to think about what had happened the night before, and was able to push it from her mind…

…Until she saw the rose. She reached over and delicately picked it up. Like the other one he'd given her, it was tied with a deep purple ribbon.

Hesitantly, she also reached out and picked up the letter that had been underneath of it. Surely Miroku (who she was still convinced was an angel) wasn't too angry with her, if he had left her a rose?...

She slowly broke the seal to the letter, and unfolded it.

_Dearest Sango,_

_I apologize for my behavior last night. I was not thinking straight, and had been having a trying day. I hope I did not hurt you too badly when I pushed you away. My thanks for your letting me borrow your father's violin. I know how much he meant to you._

_If you wish, I shall continue giving you lessons, however I will understand it if you do not want me to. If your lessons do proceed, however, know that I will never put you in that…unfortunate…circumstance again._

_To be certain of this, I will make sure I never have to appear to you again. It was my mistake, Sango, do not blame yourself._

_Best wishes during rehearsals today. Remember, opening night is in less than a week. You will have very little time to practice the lead role on stage, but it shall begin today._

_Also, be sure to meet the new managers. Apparently, the old ones ran away from some …ghost… that they could not handle. _

_Hopefully the new ones will be better than the last, but I doubt it. _

_Monsieurs… Ginta and Hakkaku, I believe?_

_I remain faithfully yours,_

_- Miroku_

Sango turned the note over. As she guessed there would be, there was a post script.

_PS—I want my glove back._

She blushed, then set the note down and opened the top drawer of her desk. She removed his glove and, after a moment, laid it carefully down in plain view.

She only wished she would be here to see him take it away.

Sango thought back to the letter. _…will make sure I never have to appear to you again…_ She bit her lip, then stopped, remembering he didn't like that. She was ashamed of what she had done, to say the least. She wasn't sure what had made her react like that… she had only wanted, in the beginning, to touch him, to know he was real… Well, that had quickly changed.

What did he mean; her practice on the stage would begin today? As far as she knew, La Kikyo was feeling perfectly well, and had no plans of quitting the lead anytime soon.

Still, she had to trust in her Angel. Quite clearly he knew what he was doing.

To even think that he wasn't sure if _she_ wanted to continue her lessons! She had been worried sick that _he _wouldn't want to continue giving them to her!

Thankfully, that hadn't been the case.

There was a knock on her door, and Kagome's voice called for her. Rehearsals were about to start. It was another day. Hannibal was waiting.

Sango quickly got ready and changed into her outfit, then, with a last look behind her at the glove and the rose on her desk, she ran out.

xxxxx

As soon as he was sure Sango was gone, Miroku slipped out from behind the mirror to retrieve his glove. So she had stored it in her desk drawer—_that_ was why he hadn't been able to find it last night!

He slid the glove onto his hand and disappeared behind the mirror again. He could already hear Kikyo's horrible voice echoing through the Opera House.

It was time he got to work.


	12. Chapter 12

Phase 8: The Gondola

Sango: Miroku! Where are we going!

Miroku: (assisting Sango into Gondola) My underground lair, my dear.

Sango: But we're all ready in a-

Miroku: My _other_ underground lair… (Tries steering the boat and realizes how difficult it is) Hold on just a moment… (Shouting) Erik, how do you steer such a thing as heavy as-

Erik: (running up to the bank) You're not very strong, are you?

Miroku: (gets insulted) What are you implying?

Erik: Nothing Monsieur. Just observing…

Miroku: Excuse me, but I don't think you are capable of sucking up thousands of demons with your own left hand…

Erik: Yes, well, that doesn't necessarily make you strong, my friend…

Miroku: I believe it does!

Erik: Oh, yes, I'm sure… (Cough) not! (Cough)

Miroku: I heard that!

Erik: (Innocently) Heard what?

Miroku: What you said!

Erik: What did I say?

Miroku: What you said when you coughed and then you… (Quarrel continues)

Sango and Christine: (deep sigh) …..

Miroku: WHAT DO YOU MEAN I FAILED TO TIE MY NOOSE PROPERLY?

Erik: I had to tell you sooner or later. But don't worry, there's no shame in being a failure.

Miroku: OH! So now I'm weak _and_ a failure! I've had enough of this! (Jumps off gondola and runs to his guest room to slam the door)

Erik: That's right, you run away from me! . . . And don't come out until your noose is perfect!

Chapter 12: Rehearsals for Hannibal

"Come on Inuyasha! Forget that ballet rat and come with me!" Jakotsu clung to Inuyasha's arm to drag him away from a gaggle of ballet girls. The group was now lining up for rehearsal. Inuyasha snarled, and broke free of Jakotsu's hold so furiously, that it caused the boy to take a step backward for balance.

"I told you, we're just friends! Now lay off and go put the backdrop up. I have to keep these drunken bastards from glancing a peak in the ballet girl's dressing rooms." He walked off, muttering a curse silently once he was out of Jakotsu's ear shot.

'Why can't you love me?" Jakotsu cried, running off into the back of the stage to drown out his sorrows in overloads of Sake.

"Get over it…" Inuyasha sighed, turning his attention to the catwalk to notice that Naraku was fastening the stage ropes around the levers and gadgets above the upper stage. The hanyou growled at the sight and walked onward to survey the crew. It was perfectly safe to say, Naraku and him didn't mix.

What really was harsh on his ears, and what really didn't mix with Inuyasha, was the horrible screeching sound sweeping through the room (which was more commonly known in the opera house as La Kikyo's _fabulous _voice).

"Wench. No talent as far as I can see." And Inuyasha stuffed two clawed fingers into his dog ears.

Xxxxx

Sango winced as Kikyo hit another high note. She had been practicing this piece for so long, and it still sounded _horrible._

How could anyone come and enjoy this? How could anyone enjoy what sounded so greatly like a dying toad? Perhaps parents brought their children as a form of punishment. Sango debated on this for a while, and then decided that she was just being cruel.

It was probably all a matter of taste. Some people might _like_ this kind of singing—she certainly didn't—but she just never met them. After all, Kikyo couldn't be this famous for absolutely _nothing._

Finally it was time for the chorus to come on, and Sango followed Kagome out onto the performance area. She was so tired! Sango hadn't been good at this particular dance to begin with, but now she was doing even worse than usual.

She heard the loud crack of wood on wood, and grimaced slightly as Lady Kaede yelled out her name, telling her to get the dance right. She was off beat again, stumbling over her feet like a clumsy fool with little sense of direction. Kagome glanced at her over her shoulder and mouthed, _"Are you all right?"_

Sango nodded and continued the dance. Monsieur Toto-sai was commenting on something that the leading tenor, Bankotsu, had sung.

Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a few men walking onto the stage. The two old managers, Kohaku and Hachi, were the first two, but the other ones she didn't recognize. Then abruptly she remembered Miroku had told her that the Opera House was getting new managers.

Apparently Kagome had known, too, because she didn't look surprised at all. She just kept dancing, getting every step perfectly. Sango sighed and attempted to copy her. She didn't do very well.

She heard one of the new managers say her name, and one of the old managers said something along the lines of her being a daydreamer. She wanted to stop and correct him, but didn't.

She really _wasn't_ a daydreamer! She'd just been so busy and tired lately; it was hard to keep up with everything. After all, she had been learning _two_ parts for this opera, not only one!

The managers continued talking, stopping in the middle of the stage. Finally Monsieur Toto-sai, who wasn't a patient man to begin with, got irritated. "Messieurs, would you be so kind as to get out of the way? We're trying to _rehearse_, you might have noticed!"

"Yeah, I've noticed!" Ginta said cheerfully. "I would like to make an announcement, everyone!"

Monsieur Toto-sai was clearly trying to hold back a moan of frustration. "By all means! Go on, make your announcement-"

"AND THEN HE SAID WE WERE JUST FRIENDS!"

"There, there…"

Toto-sai turned on Jakotsu who was wailing to someone far off in the corner. The man was trying his best to understand Jakotsu's situation, but very much couldn't, as you could plainly see by the lost and confused expression on his face. So he continued patting Jakotsu on the shoulder, until his hand froze in mid pat, because everyone was now staring at them.

The ballet girls were now whispering fiercely among themselves about who the two men with the managers might be, as well as why Jakotsu was red-eyed from crying so hard. Sango's eyes widened when discovering from Kagome that Jakotsu was, in fact, gay, (and once again got rejected by Inuyasha, as he did every week) and then decided to take the bigger interest in who the two new men with their managers were.

"Your attention! Your attention, please!" Hachi called out. The whispers continued and, if anything, got louder.

Lady Kaede slammed her staff down on the stage, and everyone jumped, including all four of the managers, new and old.

Hachi smiled weakly. "Thank you for that, Lady Kaede."

She smiled slightly, obviously noticing how much it had startled him. "My pleasure, monsieur."

"Anyway, everyone, it is with regret that I have to announce that my partner and I will be retiring this year. Immediately, as a matter of fact." He didn't mention the reason for their hasty retirement, but he didn't need to. Everyone in the room, except, perhaps, the new managers, knew it was because of the ghost.

If the new managers thought that any of this was strange, however, they didn't say anything.

"I would like to introduce your new managers as of now, Messieurs Ginta and Hakkaku." There was a polite round of applause from the on-lookers.

Kikyo immediately pushed her way over to a rather startled-looking Ginta, and then batted her eyes at him. Naraku, who was a little ways away, glared.

"May I introduce the lovely Kikyo, our lead soprano." M. Hachi proclaimed at once.

"Ah!" Ginta exclaimed, a smile now appearing on his face, "La Kikyo, sorry man, I did not recognize you, you look so… different… this close."

Kikyo scrunched up her nose at his use of grammar-especially the part where he called her a 'man'-, but continued to put on a sugar coated smile.Hakkaku, meanwhile, was looking past the prima donna at the ballet dancers—a wolf demon girl in particular—and completely ignoring her. Kikyo began turning faintly red at the realization that she was being ignored.

Ginta, seeing the trouble, hastily tried to take her attention away from his oblivious comrade. "Lady, I am one of your biggest fans. Do you think that, well, you might give us a cool performance now? I hear that there's quite an awesome aria in act three…if you want to show us, of course."

Kikyo, seeing the chance to get everyone's attention focused on her, smiled widely. "Of course, sir, if my manager commands! Monsieur Toto-sai?"

"If my diva commands." Kikyo gave him a look that said quite clearly she _did_ command. He sighed. "Will two bars be sufficient?"

xxxxx

Miroku listened from above as La Kikyo began to sing, completely mutilating the song. He wasn't too impressed with his new managers. Ginta was plainly besotted with the well-known soprano already, and Hakkaru was busy staring at the ballet rats, who were giggling furiously and whispering to each other.

Miroku cringed as Kikyo hit a wrong note, then suddenly noticed one of the backdrops was almost perfectly positioned above her head.

The one the queer boy put up…

Naraku, the chief of the flies, was evidently no where near his post. He was probably too busy attempting to look up La Kikyo's skirt somehow.

A smile came to Miroku's face.

Silently he stalked over to where the backdrop was tied tightly to an iron bar. He snorted derisively at the shoddily done job, and quickly untied it.

The backdrop went sailing down, cutting La Kikyo off mid-note. Miroku smirked._ Perfect._ With a swish of his cloak, he vanished down through one of his many trap doors.

xxxxx

"Kikyo!" Ginta screamed, "Are you all right?"

Hakkaru rounded on the two nervous-looking ex-managers, whose eyes were flitting around anxiously. "Guys, I want an explanation for this!" he hissed. "Someone could have been seriously hurt, and we have a full house coming up!"

The ex-managers exchanged looks, and finally one of them shouted, "Naraku! Naraku!" after a moment, a pale faced, evil looking man appeared and made his way over to them. "Naraku is our chief of the flies." Hachi explained, "He'll be responsible for this."

They turned to him expectantly, hoping he would make up a cover-up story. This wasn't what Naraku had in mind, however. "I'm sorry, good messieurs, but I wasn't at my post! If anyone is held responsible for this... well, it was most probably the _ghost_!" he smiled wickedly, meeting his fingers together at the tips and producing a soft 'ku ku ku…' to himself.

Hachi couldn't suppress a groan as both of the new managers turned to stare at him. "Well, good messieurs, congratulations on your new Opera House! We are quite busy, unfortunately, and cannot stay. Goodbye! ...and good luck. If you need me, I shall be in Australia. " Hachi quickly ran off stage, followed by Kohaku.

Hakkaru and Ginta exchanged looks, wondering just what they had gotten themselves into.

"Why were they retiring again?"

"Their health, I think." Hakkaru responded.

"Oh…"

Suddenly there was a frustrated, terrified scream, however, and Ginta ran to help Kikyo up. Naraku instantly pushed him out of the way and helped the lady up himself.

"This… this is an outrage! I cannot _stand_ it anymore! I am leaving this hell!"

Kikyo shouted, "Sayo! Bring me my coat! And my dog! Let us go!" The prima donna turned on her heel and marched out.

She was gone. Ginta turned desperately to Hakkaru who, in turn, turned to M. Toto-sai. "There's an understudy, right!"

M. Toto-sai shook his head, dazed and bewildered. "There is no understudy. It is a new production."

Suddenly Lady Kaede stepped out of the shadows. "Sango Youkaitashi could sing it, sir." Everyone jumped. They had forgotten she was there.

"Youkitashi? That _chorus_ girl? Don't be stupid!"

Lady Kaede smiled slowly. "Let her try, at least, messieurs. I assure you she has been well taught." she glanced at Sango, who just stared at her.

"Well?" Hakkaru demanded.

Sango hesitantly stepped up, and M. Toto-sai resignedly began to play the same introduction he had for Kikyo.

She began to sing quietly, and tried not to pay attention to the scathing comment Hakkaru made. Ginta nudged his partner to make him be quiet.

As Sango continued, she got progressively louder and more into the song. Weeks of rehearsal for this piece had been drilled into her, and she got every note correct, and all of the dynamics perfectly. She put her _soul_ into her song, just as her Angel, her Miroku, had taught her to.

When she finished breathlessly, there was a stunned silence. Then Ginta began to applaud ecstatically. "Brava, brava! I believe we've found our new diva, Hakkaru!"

Sango's heart skipped a beat. Once again, her angel had been right. She wouldn't let him down!


	13. Chapter 13

Not a Phase

Miroku: (pouting over in his room) I don't know how to tie my noose properly! Ha, what a laugh! I could do it just as swiftly and easily as any other man!

Piece of Rope: . . .

Miroku: . . .

Piece of Rope: . . .

Miroku: . . . but not now. I'm tired now.

Piece of Rope: . . .

Miroku: Stop glaring at me like that!

Piece of Rope: . . .

Miroku: Stop it!

"Messieurs?"

Ginta and Hakkaru jumped and looked up from sorting out the mess that was the office. A woman they recognized from earlier… Lady Kaede, was it?... stepped into their office. There was something clutched in her hand.

"I bring you tidings from the Opera Ghost." the ballet mistress held out a letter addressed to them in red ink. Neither of them moved to take it. Instead, they both fixed her with stares that said quite clearly they thought she was insane.

"_Ghost?_ Are you crazy, lady?" Ginta demanded.

Lady Kaede frowned. "Messieurs Hachi and Kohaku did not inform you of the Ghost?"

The two continued to stare incredulously at her. She said 'ghost' as if it were a title, or something of the like. Dear Lord, did they have an insane woman on their hands? He took a deep breath, and then began to speak slowly and gently. "Lady Kaede, right?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Indeed."

"Yeah, well, okay. Now, what's all this about stupid ghost-like things? There are no such thing as ghosts! They are supernatural beings used only in fairy tale junk. No one of your age, Kaede, should believe in anything like that." Suddenly a thought hit Ginta, "Unless, of course, you're kidding around?"

Kaede shook her head. "I assure you, Monsieur, that there _is_ a ghost in this Opera House, and if you do not begin to believe in him soon… then God help you."

She tossed the letter down onto the already cluttered desk, then turned on her heel and strolled out, shutting the door behind her.

Both sets of eyes moved down to the envelope.

"You open it." Ginta told Hakkaru. Hakkaru sighed and picked up the letter. He slit it open, and then began to read it aloud. Ginta leaned over his shoulder to look.

_My New Managers:_

_Since my old managers were incompetent fools and told you nothing of me, I shall inform you on all you need to know by means of this letter._

_My salary, which consists of 20,000 francs, is due at the end of the month. I also will request the usage of Box Five on all opening nights. If you do not follow these instructions, you will find you deeply regret it. There are too many things that can go wrong in this Opera House, and still look like an accident._

_Your Obedient Servant,_

_O.G._

xxxxx

The next two days passed all too quickly for Sango. She hadn't heard a word from her angel, her Miroku, ever since the letter he wrote to her. She was beginning to worry that, despite what he'd said, he'd never come back.

The night of the performance, however, she found another rose on her desk with a note reading simply, _"Good Luck."_

When she was finished changing into her costume, suddenly someone called her name. She gasped. "Miroku?"

Even as she spoke his name, she blushed slightly. How long had he been there? Had he watched her _change_? … But surely not. No Angel would do that! Or would he? After all, she had been able to seduce him just a few nights ago…

Perhaps Miroku, and other Angels, could fall in love just as easily as humans. Sango clung to that thought, hoping. Perhaps one day he would even let her see him… even touch him again.

Her eyes filled with hope as she looked around her almost empty room. Then she frowned. He hadn't said anything since he had whispered her name. "Miroku?"

"_I am here, Sango."_

She sighed in relief.

"I'm nervous, Miroku." she admitted, "I don't think I can do this. I'll… I'll faint, or something. As soon as I see all of those people, I'll pass out."

"_Don't say that, my dearest. You will do beautifully, and I will be there to watch you."_

Sango's face broke into a smile. "Really?"

"_Of course. I haven't done all of this work only to miss your first lead role."_

Sango shivered in delight. He had said, _'Your first.'_ Did that mean he wanted her in more? Would he be here to help her achieve that? She knew she couldn't without him.

"_Don't be nervous. I will be right there in case anything goes wrong. I will be there to help you."_

"Thank you, Miroku. Is there anything I could ever do for you? Anything at all?"

"_There… there is one rule, Sango. It only applies if you want me to continue giving you lessons, however."_

Sango looked curious. "Of course I want you to continue! What is the rule?"

He sounded as if he hesitated for a moment. Then, firmly, he said, _"You must never marry."_

xxxxx

Kuronosuke de Baka followed his apprentice into their selected box, looking eagerly around at the Paris Opera House. This was the first time he'd ever been able to attend.

He'd heard, however, that La Kikyo's voice murdered the eardrums.

Kuronosuke glanced over at his comrade. _He _probably only came to see the ballerina he liked, La Kagome, or something like that.

Luckily, Kuronosuke had heard that La Kikyo wouldn't be performing tonight. Instead, another young diva was taking her place. Kuronosuke hoped it was someone who could actually sing.

Suddenly the curtains began to open. Kuronosuke smiled widely and sat at the edge of his seat, peering down.

xxxxx

Sango's heart fluttered. She had just run all of the way here, and was almost out of breath… and it was time for her to go on. She closed her eyes and composed herself.

Abruptly she felt Kagome's hand on her shoulder, and her friend smiled at her. "Good luck, Sango."

Sango faintly heard one of their managers announcing a new patron of some sort, who was apparently attending that night.

Then came her cue to go on.

xxxxx

Miroku sat carefully in the shadows. He only had his box to himself that night, he suspected, because the new managers hadn't had any time to sell it.

He watched with bated breath as Sango walked onto the stage, and began to sing.

Then he lost himself in her voice.…

xxxxx

"_Promise me that sometimes you will think…of me!"_

Sango had done her best at the performance. She had never sung like that in her life! Now, however, she was exhausted, and felt as if she were going to faint. As soon as the production was officially over, she ran out down the corridors to her dressing room, feeling ill. She thought she heard someone call her name behind her, but she ignored it.

All she wanted to do now was curl up in her room and listen to her Angel's voice. Assuming that Miroku would be there, of course…after all, he _had_ listened to her tonight! Surely he would want to comment on how she had done.

Sango shut the door to the dressing room behind her, then stripped off her costume and changed into her nightdress.

All the while, she pondered what Miroku had told her earlier. _So she couldn't marry._ This had never been a rule before! She wondered for a little bit… and hoped some more. What if he didn't want her to marry because _he_ loved her? She decided to pretend that that was why he had made the demand.

Suddenly, while she was taking her hair down, there was a knock on her door. She frowned. "Come in!"

Inuyasha slipped into the room and shut the door behind her. "Hey Sango! You were great! Kikyo sure ain't got a voice that that!"

Sango smiled. "I owe it all to my Angel."

"Yeah..." For a moment, she thought she saw Inuyasha's fanged smile falter, "Yeah, well, I guess he's one heck of a teacher!"

"He is."

"Sango..." For a moment, Inuyasha looked like he wanted to say something important, but then there was a sharp rap on the door and Jakotsu walked in.

He gave Sango an odd look, and said, "Come, Inuyasha, The stage crew's celebrating the outstanding performance, and I'm missing my cutie!"

Inuyasha cast a look at his friend, then sighed deeply, without even giving an attempt to make Jakotsu stop clinging to him. "Come on, Kagome's waiting."

"Can we just forget about her for a moment?"

"No."

"But-"Jakotsu tried to argue

"NO!"

And the two exited in a quarrel, closing the dressing room doors behind them.

Sango sighed and relaxed in the momentary peace and quiet. Her headache was finally beginning to go away, when there was another knock on the door. "Come in!" Sango shouted again.

She wasn't facing the door, but she saw his reflection in the mirror. A happy smile graced her face the moment she noticed him, and she turned to face him.

"_Kuronosuke!"_

"Sango!"

"Oh, Kuronosuke, it's so good to see you!"

"What have you been doing here? Your father…" he hesitated.

Sango swallowed. "He died, not too long ago."

Kuronosuke frowned and kneeled down beside her, gently taking her hand. "I'm sorry, Sango. He was a good man."

"He was." she whispered, trying to keep the tears from her eyes. She turned the conversation around. "I'm sorry about your last visit… I wasn't in a good mood."

He grinned. "Nor was I. If you wish to believe in this 'Angel of Music', then you may." He delicately kissed the hand he was holding.

Suddenly Sango paled. Angel of Music… _Miroku!_ What if he was watching! What if he got the wrong idea about Kuronosuke being here?

"Kuronosuke, it was so nice to see you, but now you- you.. Can you leave? I know it sounds rude and all, but-"

Kuronosuke frowned. "Go? Why?"

"Kuronosuke l… father promised me that when he died, he would send me the Angel of Music, remember?"

The nobleman nodded.

"Well, he has. But Kuronosuke, Mir—the Angel wouldn't like you being here, I know it. I think he'd get the wrong idea… Just go, Kuronosuke. Maybe we can talk later?" She looked hopeful. It was so nice to see her childhood friend again! It reminded her of a past she had nearly forgotten…

"Of course we can talk later! 10 minutes, Little Lotte, and I'll come to bring you to the carriage! We'll go on a late night picnic."

He handed her a bouquet of flowers, which he seemingly produced out of no where, and then headed off towards the door. Sango smiled fondly at the flowers for a moment.

Then she realized what he had meant.

"No! Kuronosuke! The angel of music is very strict" She stood up quickly and shouted after him, but it was too late. He was already gone.

xxxxx

Miroku watched Sango and Kuronosuke through narrowed eyes. _Who was this boy? How did Sango know him? _He wondered if they had been friends… or something more.

Still slightly upset, he whispered, _"Sango…"_

xxxxx

Sango jumped at her Angel's voice, and then shivered. He had seen Kuronosuke …

"_Who was that, Sango? That boy?"_ Was it just her, or did he sound slightly… irritated? Jealous, maybe?

"Kuronosuke, Vicomte de Baka." she smiled, "We were childhood sweethearts." Immediately, she wished she hadn't added that last bit.

There was a sour pause. _"I see."_

"No, Miroku! It's nothing like that—not anymore. Kuronosuke and I haven't seen each other for years!"

"_He certainly seemed ready to start the relationship again. Where is it you're going with him? On a picnic?"_

His voice was definitely scathing now. Sango frowned. He wasn't being fair! But, she thought secretly, he certainly _did_ sound jealous now.

"He was only being kind. Unlike _some_ people, Kuronosuke actually _wants_ to spend time with me. I doubt he'd push me away if—"

"_That is enough, Sango!"_

Sango felt herself pale. What had she been saying! She shuddered, this time with fear, and buried her head in her hands.

"_Sango…"_

But it wasn't _fair_! Why wouldn't he let her see him? Didn't he trust her? Faintly, she heard herself say, "Why can't I get married, Miroku?"

There was a long pause.

"_Why?" _Miroku suddenly snapped, _"Do you want to marry your nobleman? Surely he's rich and handsome enough—"_

"Miroku, that's not what I meant, I was only curious! Besides, at least I can _see _him! At least I can _touch_ him! That's more than you can say for _some_ people!"

Another long pause.

"_Do you wish to see me that badly, Sango?"_

She didn't even hesitate. "Yes."

"_Then… then you may. But you must promise that, no matter what, you will come live with me for three days afterwards. Then you may return, and you never have to hear from me again unless you wish it."_

Sango's heart lifted. Live with him? For three days! It was more than she could have hoped for. For some reason, though, he sounded sad.

"_You will not wish me to continue your lessons afterwards."_

"Of course I will!" Sang protested, "Please, Angel? Please, Miroku?"

Finally, after a little while, the soft, beautiful voice said, _"Walk over to your mirror, Sango."_

Xxxxxx

Bwahahaha! Cliffe! What will happen? Well, you all know the story, so It's kinda obvious, but still…

Wow, I've never laughed evilly before…


	14. Chapter 14

Sango: (cupping cheek) Is he coming out yet?

Christine: (embraced within Erik's arms) 3 hours, 29 minutes and 15.7 seconds...

Erik: . . . You're timing this, my dear?

Christine: I was bored --

Miroku's room: (Silence)

Erik: Anyone want some cheese while we wait?

Sango: What's with you and cheese?

Christine: I hear the French love cheese

Three of us: Yeah...

(More awkward silence)

Sango: You know, Ihappen to be a fan of American cheese which is odd because-

Erik: (glare) . . .

Sango: Heh heh, but anything is fine!

Chapter 14: Illusions Shattered

Sango felt her heart jump to her throat as she walked slowly over to the mirror. It looked the same as it always had—cool and distant, with nothing special or distinguished about it at all.

She continued walking until she stood directly in front of it. "Miroku?" she asked softly, "I don't understand…"

But at that moment, she heard something click, and let out and audible gasp as the mirror swung open…

xxxxx

Kuronosuke half ran back to Sango's dressing room. He couldn't wait for her to see the surprise he had in store! The picnic under the stars was going to be amazing. They could use this time to catch up with one another.

Finally, he reached her room. He knocked softly on the door. "Sango?"

Suddenly he frowned. There was a man's voice coming from inside! Kuronosuke pressed his ear up against the door and heard Sango say, _"Miroku? I don't understand…"_

He frowned. Who was this Miroku! Well, he was about to find out and-

"Monsieur de Baka! Come away from that door, we have a feast waiting for ye in the main hall!" Kaede placed a hand on his back, although both pairs of eyes were fixed on the dressing room door, and she had failed to lead Kuronosuke away.

xxxxx

Miroku's fingers trembled as he fumbled with the latch for the mirror, and then flicked it open.

He and Sango stood face to face for the first time. For a moment, they just looked at each other.

Suddenly, however, someone knocked on the door. When Miroku heard Kuronosuke's voice from the other side, his features hardened.

He held out a gloved hand. "Come, Sango."

xxxxx

Sango vaguely heard someone knocking on the door and shouting her name, but she ignored it. Finally, at long last, she was getting her first look at her Miroku. He was tall, and dressed all in black. Odd color for an angel, Sango thought, but then brushed it away. His face—the half she could see, anyway, was angelically beautiful.

The other half, however, was covered in a porcelain half-mask. She frowned slightly. Why would he be wearing a mask? Was it symbolic, or was there a reason for it?

Without her even noticing, Miroku had led her through the mirror. As soon as she was through, he turned and snapped the mirror shut behind her.

Now, for the very first time since she had first heard him, Sango wondered if Miroku wasn't an angel.

As her mind skimmed over the things that had happened between them so recently, she couldn't help but wonder…

Angels weren't supposed to be like this, were they? Not any angel she had ever heard about, anyway… and, though she hated to admit it, she had been too willing to believe he was an angel in the first place.

But she wouldn't accept that. Not yet. She had to hear it from him first…

As he took her hand once more to lead her down the dark passageway, she hesitantly said, "You're not an angel, are you, Miroku?"

He stopped walking, and wouldn't turn to face her. After a moment, he softly whispered, "No. No, Sango, I am not your Angel of Music. I never was."

Sango withdrew her hand from his. He let it go, still not daring to turn and look at her. She fought back the tears that were suddenly welling up in her eyes. _No sense in grieving for something that never was._

Slowly, the realization hit her. _Really_ hit her. How _stupid_ she had been! How completely _stupid!_ She couldn't believe that she had actually thought that this man was the Angel of Music! She had been so wrapped up in believing that her father would send her the Angel that she had refused to believe the truth — there _was_ no Angel of Music, and there never had been one!

Sango looked back up at Miroku, and her frown deepened. She could just barely make out his shape in the utter darkness, but she could tell that he still had his back to her. Suddenly all of the sadness and embarrassment were gone from her, and all that was left was cold anger.

_How _dare_ he! He had taken complete advantage of her! _Yes, it was partly her fault for being stupid enough—_desperate_ enough—to believe him, but that still gave him no right to do what he had done to her!

"You _lied_ to me." Her voice was cold and filled with hate, even to her own ears. "You _deceived _me! Who are you really? No, don't answer that. How will I know you won't just lie _again_? I refuse to be tricked twice in the same way! How _dare_ you do that to me! I _trusted _you…I was actually stupid enough to _trust_ in you! You deceived me; you made me look like a complete idiot to all of my friends! Kagome and Inuyasha must have thought I was mentally ill… talking about an angel my dead father had sent me! And Kuronosuke... _Oh, Kuronosuke!_" Sango fell to her knees, no longer holding back her tears.

xxxxx

Miroku couldn't look at Sango as she screamed accusations at him. He couldn't answer. They were all true…every one of them.

He closed his eyes and tried not to think. _What had he done?_

Suddenly he heard her fall to her knees behind him, and start crying. Miroku froze, not able to bear the sound.

Silently he turned to face her. Her head was buried in her hands, and her entire body was shaking as it was wracked with her sobs.

Miroku couldn't take it anymore. He would do anything—_anything_—to make it up to Sango. He knew, deep down, that she'd never forgive him. No one ever did.

Gently he kneeled down beside her and, after a moment of hesitation, laid a hand on her shoulder.

xxxxx

Sango hadn't even heard him approach her. She didn't think he would dare to get near to her now—not after what he had done to her! Hadn't he harmed her enough!

When she felt the pressure on her shoulder, however, she was brought back to earth. She viciously slapped his hand away. "Don't you _touch_ me! Don't even get near me! I _hate_ you! I **_hate_**you, you _pervert_!" she yelled, knowing she sounded like a child having a temper tantrum, and not even caring. "You _monster_, I **hate **you!"

Through glazed eyes, she saw him jerk back almost involuntarily, as if he had been struck. The pain in his eyes was evident.

'_Good,'_ Sango thought savagely.

For a moment there was silence between them, and then she heard _his_ voice saying dispassionately, "Get up, Sango. You promised you would stay with me for three days, no matter what. You're not going to go back on your word, now are you?"

Sango gritted her teeth and stood, brushing her dress off slightly. "No." she said coolly. She watched the hurt flair up in his eyes again, and then get pushed away.

"Very well." his voice, his beautiful, angelic voice, sounded even more distant than it had before. He turned away and began off into the darkness.

Sango stumbled after him, not able to see. He didn't even look back at her once. Suddenly, she wished she hadn't said those cruel things. Even if he _had_ tricked her, it was clear he hadn't wanted to harm her in any way. _Still_, she thought, trying to keep the anger, _he took advantage of my situation!_

No matter how hard she tried, however, she couldn't stay angry at him. In the time when she had found out that he wasn't actually an angel, she had conveniently forgotten how much he had helped her. Finally, she said, "You're him, aren't you? The…the Phantom of the Opera?"

Miroku continued walking, not bothering to look back towards her. "If that is what you've heard, then, yes I am. Had you expected anything else?"

Sango fell silent before questioning him again. "Miroku…is that your name?"

"It is…"

"Then I… I…" she faltered, "I didn't mean…what I said. You have to understand, though…" she had stopped walking again, and the grief overwhelmed her. "F-father… he promised me… and I _so_ wanted to believe him!" she felt the hot tears begin to stream down her cheeks again. "I…I didn't want to think I was alone. I wanted to believe he was still there, that he had sent me the Angel of Music, that I would have someone to _rely_ on, someone to trust!" she choked, then continued, "But I was wrong, and now what I've always feared would happen had come to pass. I'm alone. I'm _alone_." She tried to stop her tears, but failed.

"You're not alone, Sango." Miroku said softly. He closed the distance between them, and lifted her chin to make her look at him. "You will never, ever be alone, not as long as I live. I can promise you that much."

Sango stared back at him. "Thank you." To her surprise, she realized she meant it. Perhaps some part of her was still convinced he was her Angel, or perhaps she realized how very much Miroku meant what he said.

"Sango… I know you cannot forgive me for tricking you." he said softly, "I really did not want to hurt you…in fact, I wanted to help you. You looked so lost and alone in the Opera House that I couldn't help but try to comfort you. I…" he trailed off, and began to turn away from her.

Sango stopped him. So maybe he wasn't the Angel of Music. Maybe he hadn't been sent from her father. But he was still_ Miroku_. He was still the one who had taught her, who had, for a brief amount of time, made her forget about her father's death. He was still the one who had made her prima donna…

"Miroku," she said softly, "I understand. And thank you, again. She reached up and touched his cheek. "Please forgive me for what I said back there? I don't know what hurt you so much, but I can promise that I didn't mean it."

A haunted look came to his eyes… violet; she noticed…why hadn't she seen that before? And they almost seemed to glow in the dark, if that was possible… and he nodded. "No, Sango, you didn't mean it. …Not yet…"

Then, before she could say anything, he gently took her arm and led her down the rest of the passageway.

At the other end, Sango was surprised to see, there was a vast lake. Miroku helped her into the boat, and then got in behind her and pushed off.


	15. Chapter 15

_"...Look at yourself!"_

Miroku could feel the cold beads of sweat fall rapidly down his half covered face. He was dreaming-no- he was having a nightmare! Or rather…he was having a memory…and a cruel memory at that.

_"Look at yourself in the mirror, you devil's child! See why you must wear a mask. Christ all-mighty, look at yourself!"_

He was restless. Miroku tossed and turned eagerly in his bed. Within his mind, the memory seemed to rewind itself.

_She was in the kitchen. Batches of cakes were produced in an immense amount. Why, there was enough to feed the entire city, if desired. But still the woman went on mixing and stirring vigorously. And all the time she worked she was aware of the piano playing softly in the drawing room. He did not come bothering her, like a normal child would. He was not begging to lick the spoon or trying to pilfer a small piece of cake from the serving dish. Food meant nothing to him._

"_Put on you're clothes, Miroku." She said sternly, wiping her hands on her apron and proceeding into the drawing room. She stood over his shoulder, staring down at the piano. She watched, as if in a trance, to the small, gracefully movements of Miroku's hands against the keys. _

_He looked up at her through the mask. "It isn't Sunday ... is Father Motosuwa coming to say Mass again?"_

_"No," the lady replied, wiping her hands again on the apron. She averted his gaze and added, in a low tone, "It's your birthday."_

_He stared at her blankly for a moment, as if not comprehending what she had said. _

_"The anniversary of your birth," she blurted out, irritated by his childish ignorance. "You were born five years ago today and the event should be celebrated."_

_"Like a requiem?" He comment was entirely serious as his innocent yet puzzled cobalt eyes, fixed on her with interest._

_"Not exactly," the woman replied, shakily.._

_"Then there won't be any music to rehearse?" His voice was clearly filled with disappointment. _

_"No ... but there will be a special supper."_

_Interest wondered back into his eyes and he continued to play the score he had been working on._

_She then added quickly, "And a present! Mushin is bringing you a present, Miroku. I expect you to remember your manners and thank him nicely."_

_He turned to look at her curiously._

_"Go upstairs and change into your dress clothes. I must set the table."_

_As she pulled a tablecloth from the drawer, she was aware that he had made no effort to move._

_"Mother?"_

_"What is it now?" she cried out irritably._

_"Will I receive a gift from you? Will you give me one as well?"_

_Miroku watched as she placed the napkins on the table with a shaking left hand._

_"Of course," her voice sounded as though she had been programmed to say that. "Is there something particular that you want?"_

_He came to stand beside her and something about his sudden silence made her shiver uncomfortably. He doubted whether to believe his mother's words. She had never given him a present, why start now…when he was already five years into his life?_

_"May I have anything I want?" he asked nervously._

_"Within reason."_

_"May I have two of them?"_

_"Why should you need two?" she groaned._

_"In order to save one for when…when the other is used up."_

_"What is it you want?" His mother asked, beginning to feel relaxed._

_Silence._

_She watched him playing with the napkins._

_"Miroku, I've had quite enough of this silly game now. If you don't tell me what you want straightaway, you will have nothing at all."_

_He jumped at the sharpness of her tone and began to twist a napkin between his thin fingers._

_"I want— I want two ..." He stopped and put his hands on the table, as though to ready himself._

_"For God's sake!" she snapped. "Two what?"_

_He looked up at her._

_"Kisses," he whispered "One now and one to save."_

_She stared at him in horror and without any warning burst into uncontrollable tears._

_"You must not ask that." His mother sobbed. "You must never, _never_ ask that again ... do you understand me, Miroku ... never!"_

_He shrank from her noisy wails in horror and backed away to the door._

_"Why are you crying?" he stammered._

_"I'm not ... crying." She gasped._

_"Yes, you are!" he shouted in a voice that was suddenly ugly with rage. "You're crying and you won't give me my birthday present. You made me ask—_you made me ask_—and then you said no. Well, I don't want a birthday. ... I don't like birthdays. ... I hate them!"_

_The door slammed behind him…_

And the vision blurred for a moment, suddenly regaining its previous state.

_The door behind his mother opened and she stood in horror, watching Mushin's face turn white and his pudgy, rose-colored hand fly instinctively to his mouth. The terror in his black eyes lasted for only a split second before he regained his composure well enough to force his lips into a strained smile._

_"Good evening, Miroku, my boy ... how nice you look in that new suit. Your father, god bless him…he would've been so proud to see you in that. Come and sit beside me and have supper. We'll feast together! And let's not forget about the present I am to give you."_

_When Miroku's mother turned and saw him standing there in the open doorway, without the mask, she screamed in fury. He had done this for spite; he had done this to punish and humiliate her..._

_"How dare you!" she spat. "How dare you do this, you wicked child!"_

_"Nanami…It really doesn't matter-"_

_"Be silent!" She snapped. "I will deal with this without your interference. Miroku! Go back to your room and put on the mask. If you ever do this again I shall beat you for it."_

_He shivered and the grotesquely malformed lips puckered, as though he was about to cry, but still he stood there stubbornly, both hands clenched into fists of defiance._

_"I don't like the mask," he muttered. "It's hot and it hurts me. It makes my face sore."_

_"Go to your room," she shouted. "I shall make a new mask after supper, and you will not come down without it again. Do you hear me, Miroku? NEVER!"_

_"Why?" he demanded. "Why must I always wear the mask? No one else has to."_

_She flew at him and began to shake him so savagely. _

_"Nanami!" said Mushin helplessly. "Nanami, my girl, stop this—"_

_"He wants to know why!" She screamed at him. "Then he shall know ... by God, he shall know!"_

_She dug her nails into the thin material of Miroku's shirt and dragged him from the room, up the stairs, before the only mirror in the house._

_"Look at yourself! _ _Look at yourself in the mirror, you devil's child! See why you must wear a mask. Christ all-mighty, look at yourself!"_

Then it went black. Miroku woke up abruptly, gripping the sides of his coffin with shaking hands. (That is where he sleeps, for it is the only place when a person of his standards, truly belongs) He swung his legs over the edge of the wood and jumped down onto the floor. Sango was still asleep. Good, Miroku had to be careful not to wake her. If he did, Miroku wasn't sure if he could pull himself together in time. He walked hastily over to the organ where the phantom drowned out his memories in music.

After a good 20 minutes, Sango's eyelids fluttered open, quietly listening to his melancholy tunes. They seemed so sad, so deprived of life; it made Sango's heart ache.Shelost herself in the music. Miroku was a master at playing the organ, and for a moment she could almost believe that… after all, he _was_ the angel of music.

When he ended the piece, Sango realized that she had been holding her breath. There was a moment of silence and she lay perfectly still on the sheets.

Then Miroku removed his hands from the organ and stood.

"If you hold your breath like that, you'll most likely turn blue. I wouldn't advise it…" He sighed, walking over to her. "That wouldn't be wise on your part, would it?"

Sango's blush deepened. "Oh…no, I guess not."

He crossed over to her and placed a finger to her lips, then turned from her. "Shhh, go to sleep now. You still have two days to spend in my company. However horrid that may sound."

Sango studied him, and nodded. She tried to drift back off to sleep, but every time she was almost there, she was brought back by the thought of his mask.

It was foolish, idle curiosity, but it wouldn't let her go to sleep, not now that she was up. Her mind searched around for a reason that she would be able to take the mask off, but failed to find one.

Sango sleepily looked up at Miroku, only to find that he was back at his organ. He was into the music, swaying gently with the rhythm. Surely Miroku wouldn't notice if she just took a quick peek…

She silently crept over behind him and was about to reach for it, but then stopped herself. It was wrong. She couldn't take his mask off—he obviously trusted her not to. Even thinking about trying to like she was now was betraying his trust.

Sango, instead, sat down on the bench beside him and leaned her head on his shoulder, trying her very best to fall asleep. Miroku looked at her with astonishment, but never failed to miss a beat. Sango closed her eyes and exhaled slowly, losing herself in the music again.

Yet still, even though she knew it was wrong, her sub-conscious wouldn't leave her alone. What was Miroku hiding from her? Surely, if he loved her, he wouldn't mind if she took his mask off. After all, if she was to love him as much as she had when he was her angel, he couldn't keep secrets from her. She wouldn't allow him to.

After all, the foundation of a relation is trust…

Isn't it?

Certainly Miroku would understand that Sango didn't want to keep anything from him.

Was he keeping things from her?

Clearly he wouldn't mind if she just took _a quick look_? He probably wouldn't even know if she did! He was so lost in the music right now… he most likely wouldn't feel her remove his mask.

So, her heart telling her it was wrong the entire time, Sango reached up and touched the surface of his mask.

She looked at Miroku. He was still completely lost in the music, and didn't feel her touch.

Sango moved her fingers over to the edge of the porcelain, and then lost heart. This was wrong… she _knew_ it was wrong! It was a violation of Miroku's privacy… and yet, she needed to know.

Sango squeezed her eyes shut and began to pry the edge of the mask off…

There was a sudden silence as the music stopped. Quick as lightning, Miroku's hand came up and grabbed her wrist, twisting it painfully.

Sango cried out in agony and let go of the edge of his mask. For a moment she thought he had broken her wrist, but then she realized she could still move it.

'_What have you done?' _Miroku thought in a fiery rage. Quickly, he released her hand.

There was a long moment of silence as Sango cradled her wrist. She didn't dare look up at Erik-er-Miroku. She knew he was upset with her, _really _upset with her, and she completely understood why.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she brought her eyes up to meet his.

His deep violet eyes were ablaze with anger and hurt. She saw his despair at her betrayal in them, and she wanted to try and comfort him.

But she couldn't. This was all of her fault in the first place.

"Mir-Miroku… I… I'm sorry, I… I didn't mean—"

"Don't you _ever_," his voice came out in a low hiss, "_Ever_ try that again!"

There was another pause where neither said anything. Finally, Miroku broke it, his voice cool and distant.

"_Sleep now, Sango!" _And he picked her up and thrust her, almost savagely, into the swan bed.

**A/N**: Honestly…I just made Miroku's mother's name up...  
And the part of Miroku's memory was rewritten out of "Phantom" by Susan Kay. And sometimes I forgot what I'm typing and just write Erik...heh heh.


	16. Chapter 16

Thursday morning came all too awkwardly. Miroku led Sango into the dining area, wanting to serve her breakfast. He placed a dish in front of her with a loud 'bang'. Sango winced as it clashed against the table. The contents of the meal, she could not decipher. It seemed to look like some disgusting concoction of scrambled eggs and burnt bacon. Sango guessed that Miroku didn't quite have the 'cooking gene'.

She shifted around uncomfortably in her seat. Miroku wasn't even _looking_ at her!

_How dare she? _This was probably the last time he'd ever get to see her, and she was trying to ruin it!

Miroku glared down at her food. "You don't mind it you eat alone, do you?"

"I…I guess not…"

"Well, good," he spoke coolly, Erik strolling into the music room and, in his rage, failed to close and lock the door. He slid down onto the bench before his organ and began to play furiously on it. He let all of his emotions flow into his music.

_Why?_ Why had she _tried_ to take his mask off? He had caught her before she was able to, but the betrayal of it still hurt. Didn't she understand?

His mask was the one thing that was between him and the rest of the world. It was the only protection he had against the cruelty of reality. If she saw his face, Sango would be just like everyone else—afraid of a monster.

Her words the previous night then came back to him. _"You monster, I **hate **you!" _

Yes, she would be just like everyone else, and Miroku couldn't bear it. He couldn't bear to see the fear and disgust in her eyes, as he remembered seeing in his mother's so long ago. Why had this happened to him? He had been perfectly fine all alone in his lair… why had he gone and meddled in things that were better off left alone?

He thought he heard something, but brushed it off as probably Sango's cat, Kirara. Miroku went back to playing on his organ.

xxxxx

When Miroku had left her in the room, Sango turned to say something—_anything_—to him so that he wouldn't be so upset, but he had shut the door in her face.

Hurt and alone, Sango decided to seek him out. She wouldn't be able to sleep well that night, knowing he was angry with her.

As quietly as she could, Sango slipped out of dining room and down the hallway. Her stomach growled lightly, but Sango just ignored it. But she was anxious that she wouldn't remember which of the doors led to the music room, but Sango found that she needn't have worried.

Miroku had apparently left the door to the music room ajar, and she could hear him pounding violently on the organ. She shuddered. This was probably a bad time, and he most likely wouldn't even listen to her. But she _had _to try!

Sango took a deep breath, and then walked into the room. She froze when the door creaked, but Miroku didn't look up. After a moment, she inwardly berated herself for being so jumpy. Why would it matter if Miroku knew she was here, anyway? Wasn't that what she was here for?

No. That wasn't why she was here, and she knew it. She was here because, in spite of everything, she wanted—_needed_—to know what was behind his mask. Her curiosity had been only encouraged when he reacted so angrily.

_What was he hiding from her?_

Sango cursed her curiosity and shoved it to the back of her mind. She couldn't get him even angrier than he was now! Wasn't it bad enough that she had tried to betray him… did she actually _have _to?

His back was still to her, and he was immersed in his music. He didn't even know she was there… This was her chance. Miroku would not realize what had happened until it was too late.

Sango took a step towards him, and then forced herself to a stop. _NO! _She wouldn't! She _couldn't_. She could only imagine his anger and hurt if she betrayed him twice. He had a reason for hiding his face—couldn't she just let him be?

Almost against her will, she took another step forward. It wasn't fair! Hadn't there been enough lies and deceit between them? Hadn't he kept enough secrets from her?

Once again, she forced herself to a halt. What was she doing? She was supposed to be making amends, not making things worse! Everyone had secrets…Miroku would show her this one when he was ready. Until then, she _had_ to let him be, for both their sakes!

But didn't he trust her? Didn't he even love her enough to realize that she wouldn't hold what he _looked_ like against him? She assumed that he hid the right side of his face due to some kind of deformity. Surely that's why his reaction had been so vicious.

Looks didn't matter; it was what was inside that counted! She would just have to show him that it didn't matter. If that required removing his mask… then so be it.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Miroku slowly got more relaxed as he played. He couldn't stay mad at Sango for long. After all, she hadn't even succeeded in removing the mask.

It was natural for her to be curious about it…anyone would be. Neither of them had even mentioned it since the first time she'd seen him, but he knew she had probably wondered. Sango had probably even guessed that he was deformed—she just didn't know how badly.

She didn't understand that, because of his face, he had been beaten, scorned, laughed at, mocked… She couldn't understand that because of his face he had been forced to live underground, away from the world.

Because of his face, no one—not even his mother—had ever loved him. All of his life he had been despised and abused, simply because of his appearance.

He even hated himself for it. There was, perhaps, no one more repulsed by his face than he himself—and he had to live with it every day of his life.

Miroku was forced to live with the fact that he would never lead a normal life, that he would never have friends, or lovers. He had to live with the knowledge day by day that, when he died, no one would know… and no one would care.

And then there was Sango. Finally, there was a tiny ray of hope that a person would care for him. They hadn't had the best of starts, but he was determined to fix that. In time, she might turn into his only friend… maybe, he even dared to hope, she could come to love him.

This all hung on the balance of his mask, however. She could never see his face, or else she would be like everyone else. He had no doubt of that.

But he trusted her. Surely after his last outbreak, she wouldn't try to remove his mask again. She would know better now.

He would apologize to her in awhile. She was probably upset about his outbreak, and he didn't want her to fret about it. He thought about getting up and apologizing to her right away, but he didn't want to bother her while she was eating…or rather, not eating. He might be a genius, but Miroku knew he was disgraceful as a chef.

Confident that tomorrow they could start over again, and that for once in his life, he had the possibility of being happy, Miroku launched into a more peaceful song.

He was so absorbed in his thoughts and the music that he failed to hear Sango come up behind him.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Sango stopped immediately behind Miroku and took a shaky breath. She was nervous, and rightfully so. There was no telling how angry he'd be after she did this.

She collected herself. There was no going back now… she had to do this. Their relationship wouldn't be able to grow at all with this secret in the way, and she knew it. She wouldn't have a chance at coming to love him unless there weren't any secrets between them.

If there was one thing Sango couldn't stand, it was lying and deceitfulness. She couldn't love Miroku until she made sure that he wouldn't lie to her again, and she couldn't care for him until she knew why he was so upset over her trying to see his face.

If he loved her as much as he said he did, he would understand that. If he cared for her, than he should have more faith in her, and not think that she would base her emotions on anything as petty as an outward appearance.

With that last thought in her mind, Sango reached forward and snatched the mask away from Miroku's face.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

**A/N** : Don't you just love cliffhangers? Oh, and perhaps I won't update for a week, or maybe… an entire month! Mwahaha…it all depends on you! I'm a greedy writer, I admit it. I need reviews! Or else…say hello to my little friend, hiatus!


	17. Chapter 17

Miroku froze, and the world seemed to freeze over as well. _Sango…_ She had taken off his mask. He carefully stayed turned away from her at first, not wanting to see her horrified reaction. _Why? Why now? Why was fate always so cruel to him? He had almost hoped… but no._

Slowly the sorrow melted away, and cold, blind fury took its place. How DARE she? After all he had tried to do! —He'd even _warned_ her not to! She still just _had_ to know, didn't she? Well then, she _would_ know! Curse her! _Damn_ her! How dare she do this to him! Miroku seethed, and whirled to face Sango.

His face was cast into the light. The appalled look on Sango's face only made him angrier.

"_DAMN you!"_

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Damn you, you little prying Pandora! You little demon! Is _this_ what you wanted to see!"

Sango immediately fell back, horrified and frightened. Miroku advanced on her, his terrible face twisted into a sneer of rage.

His face! God, what had she done? He had the face of a demon! The left half was pure and untouched… but the right half of his face! She shuddered.

His skin was yellowish and pale, stretched tightly over the bones in his face. The right half of his nose was so sunken in that it seemed to disappear altogether. The parchment-like skin failed to even reach the top of his forehead, where the bone showed.

To Sango's horror, the demon-like visage before her began to laugh. It was not the light, airy laugh of humor, but the laughter of a mad man.

Miroku took another step closer to her, and Sango tried to take another step back. She tripped on the hem of her gown and fell to the ground.

Suddenly Miroku leaned down and grabbed her arms, digging his nails into them. She cried out, both in pain and fear. "Look at me!" Miroku cried wildly, yanking her chin upwards. She closed her eyes, unable to bear it.

"You wanted to see me! You wanted to view the face behind the mask! Now look—See!" He shook her violently. "_Look at me, you ignorant woman!"_

Sango tried to hold back a whimper, but failed. Slowly, she forced her eyes open.

His face was barely an inch away from hers, and she nearly fainted in terror. _"Satisfied?_" he hissed. "Well? ARE YOU?"

Sango tried to pull back, but Miroku gripped her even harder. "Oh no! You're not going anywhere—not now! Anyone who sees my face may never see the light of day again!"

She struggled harder in his grip, begging for mercy. Miroku viciously ran his hands through her hair, dragging her closer to him. Sango tried to hold her tears back, but her attempts were in vain.

"Ah! I frighten you! Yes, well, what did you expect from a _monster_? You were very right by calling me that in the tunnels! Is this what you expected? I daresay not… Look now, you're crying—_crying—_well, go on and cry Sango! See how far that gets you!"

Sango tried to stop, but couldn't. Instead, her sobs grew louder in spite of herself.

"But perhaps you think that I'm wearing another mask? Then go on and tear this one off like you did the other! Come on, I won't take no for an answer! Try…just _try!_" Miroku snatched her hands and put them to his face, digging her nails into his flesh.

Sango tried to pry her eyes away, but failed. She gasped through her choking sobs and cried out as his blood splattered her fingers. Her nails left bloody streaks behind them, but Miroku continued to rigorously dig them into his skin, all the while willing her to remove the mask.

And then, to her dismay and amazement, he began to cry.

"Why, Sango? Why did you have to know? Now I can't let you go—I can't! If you hadn't seen my face, perhaps you would have returned willingly, but now… now…" Miroku let her go and turned away, trembling.

Sango just sat there for a long time, feeling sick, dizzy, and somewhat dazed. _This was all her fault!_ What compelled her to remove his mask? She turned her gaze back to Miroku, and unthinkingly reached out to him.

His back was turned, however, and he didn't see. Sango pulled her hand back before he could, shivering. If anything, his temper scared her more than his face did. His face… to be truthful, it terrified her. She had never seen anything more horrible in her life, and yet… Yet she couldn't hold it against him. She wouldn't let herself…after all; he couldn't help what he looked like.

But his temper… that was a different matter. He had the power to control himself, at least! And yet, he didn't. She knew he was angry… he had a right to be angry! But still… She turned her gaze to his shaking form and shuddered.

Could she forgive him? Even more important, could _he_ ever forgive _her_?

Sango looked down and her eyes connected with a flash of white. She reached out and tenderly picked up the porcelain mask that had hid Miroku from the world.

She stared down at it for a moment, and then slid over to where he sat. She tried to turn him to face her, but he wouldn't. There was blood everywhere on him, and she knew that it wasn't hers.

"Miroku," she said softly, so quiet she almost couldn't hear herself, "Please… I didn't mean… I'm sorry."

He didn't answer, and tears came to her eyes. She didn't deserve to be forgiven, and she knew it. Yet, she had still hoped that maybe…maybe…

Sango laid a hand on his shoulder, and he stiffened beneath her touch. Gently, she wedged the simple, innocent-looking mask into his lap.

He must have seen it, but he did nothing, still turned from her.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Miroku watched as his tears mingled with the blood on his face. Sango was sitting right beside him, he could sense her there. He couldn't turn to face her, though. Not after what he had done… she must hate him. She had to. He had seen the terror in her eyes, and he hadn't cared. Her white gown was covered in his blood, and there were nail marks on her arms.

She'd never trust him again, that much was for sure.

Miroku felt Sango set something in his lap, and he looked down. It was his mask. What did that mean? Did it mean, simply, that she never wanted to see his face again? Or was she just trying to comfort him?

Probably the former. He doubted she cared for him in the least anymore. Not after that. Miroku didn't touch the mask, wishing that Sango would disappear, and that he had never even heard of her name.

Curse her… He realized now just how much he had loved her. Now… now that he had no chance of winning her love. He had scared her away… permanently.

Finally he reached down and took the mask in his hands, and lifted it to cover the bloody, torn right side of his face.

Not turning to look at Sango, he stood and walked over to the organ. Obediently, she followed him. He sat down and still didn't look at her.

"Go back to your room, Sango."

She didn't move. "But—"

"Go."

Sango bit her lip, and moved closer to him. "Miroku, I—"

"JUST GO!"

She fled.

Miroku stared down at the organ, not even touching it. He couldn't keep Sango locked up here forever. At the end of the third day of her… her imprisonment… here, he would take her back up to her room.

Until then, she would see nothing of him. It was for the best.

Miroku stood and disappeared into one of his passageways. When he was safe inside the darkness, he removed the mask, and then walked into a small room that contained a basin of water, a damp cloth… and a mirror.

He didn't dare look at the mirror as he dipped the cloth into the water and dabbed the blood off of his face. He ignored the sting, and finished cleaning the wounds.

As he was about to put the mask back on, however, he caught a glance of himself in the mirror. There was a pause, as cobalt eyes met cobalt eyes.

Then, in a wash of fury, he raised his fist and smashed it into a thousand glittering pieces.


	18. Chapter 18

The candles had all burnt out, and she was alone… completely alone.

Sango shivered at the feeling. The entire place felt deserted. She knew that she wouldn't see any sign of Miroku, and after what she had done to him… she didn't blame him for avoiding her.

Sango scrambled around in the darkness, feeling for anything that could help her see. Almost immediately, her hand came in contact with a few, thick wax candles on her bedside table. Along with them were a few boxes of matches. She carefully lit the candle, and held it up so that its warm glow could enfold the entire room. By its dim light, she noticed an envelope on the edge of her bed.

She grabbed the envelope and slit it open, then unfolded the note inside.

_Dear Sango:_

_You will be provided with everything you might need. The hallways are lit and you will be able to see. A meal will be waiting for you down the hallway and to your right. It is the only door that is unlocked, so it should be easy enough to find. Do not be frightened of running into me by accident. I am away at the moment, and will not be back for some time. You may amuse yourself by reading the books provided in your room._

The note was not signed. Either he didn't know how to sign it any longer, or he thought Miroku was too informal, or he was just in too much of a hurry.

Sango frowned at the note, trying to think of what she _knew_ was wrong with it. There was something that seemed odd and out of place. Of course, the sentences were short and to the point, which was odd, but then he probably didn't want to take much time bothering to write to her. She ignored the part that said he was away altogether. She seriously doubted he had even left the house, but she knew he was right in saying she wouldn't run into him. He was probably behind one of the locked doors—out of her reach, like everything else.

Suddenly it hit her. His notes were usually a bit sloppy, with the letters all disconnected—but today, they were written as if his fingers didn't know how to hold a quill. Sango traced over his letters, a frown etched onto her face. Why was it so stiff? It looked as if he were in pain as he were writing… which would explain the short sentences, and the shortness of the note altogether.

Sango gently set the note back down onto her beside table, then got up and headed towards the door.

The first thing she noticed about his house was the silence. Not a sound was uttered as; candle held high over her head, she made her way down the hallway. She supposed that she was used to the sounds of the opera when she woke up, and the hustle-bustle of the ballerinas getting ready for the days' practice.

Even when she had been in here, though, the place had been full of Miroku's music. Now, there was nothing but the drip of lake water, and the crackle from the flame of the candle she held. Even her breath seemed loud and out of place.

She was amazed to find that she feared the silence even more than she had the darkness. Darkness she could bear, if it was full of music—the horrifying combination of both nearly scared her senseless.

Still, she took a deep breath and kept walking. If the candle went out, she knew she wouldn't be able to take one more step. Right now, it was her only tiny light in the vast darkness that surrounded her.

As she walked, her footsteps echoed strangely, making the place seem even more deserted. Deep inside, however, Sango knew that it wasn't. Miroku was here, somewhere, even if he wasn't making a sound. Surprisingly, the thought almost comforted her.

Finally she reached a slight turn in the hallway, and reached for the nearest door. She was relieved that she had found the right room on the first try.

The room was rather tiny, but quaint. It had tasteful designs on the walls, and there was a small dining table in the middle of the room.

On top of the table, there was a tray of food and a glass of wine. It was more than she could eat, but not extensively more. None of the food was hot, and none of it was the type that needed to be cooked.

Sango placed her candle in the holder, and resignedly sat down to breakfast alone. She had known that he wouldn't eat with her—but she had hoped. She couldn't _stand_ the feeling that she was completely alone.

She grew more and more tense and jumpy during the meal, the darkness and silence beginning to get to her. She ate as quickly as she could, not sure what she would do next, but wanting to find something that made sound.

Finally, she was finished her food. She grabbed the candle and fled the room, trying every other door in the hallway.

Door after door she found locked. She barely resisted the urge to fling herself at them, and crash them open—anything besides the seemingly endless hallway. She had tried to go back to the room which she ate in, but found she didn't know which way to go.

With rising terror, she realized she didn't know the way to her room either.

She continued to try opening the doors—conveniently forgetting that Miroku had told her that they were all locked. He must have forgotten at least _one_.

She recognized the music room when she reached it, and knew she shouldn't even bother to try and open it. She tried anyway. It was locked.

Sango continued in this fashion until she wanted to collapse in the middle of the hallway and cry. She refused to let herself, however, and kept walking. She had to find her room_ eventually_.

Then the horrifying realization that she might be going in circles came to her. She could go on forever! Sango began to run, still checking all of the doors.

Then to her amazement, a doorknob turned. She froze. It wasn't locked! Relief washed over her, and she pushed the door open.

It wasn't her room.

Sango blinked as the entire place began to light itself, torches that she couldn't see flaring into existence. Something must have triggered when she opened the door. Thrilled that she was in a well-lit room at last, Sango dropped the candle and stepped inside.

In her joy, she failed to notice that the door shut by itself behind her, blending right into the rest of the room.

After her initial happiness was over, Sango began to study the place that she had stumbled into. She came to the conclusion that she had never been in a stranger room in her life.

It was made entirely of mirrors, and in the very center there was a kind of metal tree. Sango couldn't begin to fathom what such a strange room could be used for. Then she noticed something even more strange… a kind of rope hung from one of the branches of the metal tree, tied into the shape of a noose.

Suddenly Sango didn't want to be in this room any longer. She turned to go, but the door had vanished. She took a deep breath, trying not to panic. There was absolutely nothing wrong with this room. There was nothing here to harm her.

She vaguely noticed that the room was getting hotter. But wait! Was she in a room?

Suddenly she was in the middle of a vast forest, forgetting as she panicked that the mirrors were just reflecting the tree in the middle of the room. Where was she? It was steadily getting warmer, and Sango began to sweat. She began to walk (though, unknowingly, in circles), but the forest never seemed to end!

Finally she collapsed, tired and dizzy. She was so thirsty…

Sango looked up and saw the noose. In her current condition, it was beginning to look rather friendly… She got up and began to walk towards it.

Just as she was about to place it around her neck, she realized with a sickening feeling just what she was doing. Slowly, she also remembered that she _wasn't_ in a forest…She was in a room in Miroku's house!

Sango staggered back from the noose, but as soon as she looked around, the illusion of a forest began to creep back…

Sango closed her eyes. If she didn't get out of here, she would end up killing herself! But she was alone, and there was no one to help her—No! That was wrong. Miroku! Where was Miroku? Surely he wasn't angry enough to let her die!

Sango gathered all of the strength she had left, and screamed, "**MIROKU**!"

xxxxx

Miroku stopped pacing the room he was in, listening intently. Was Sango calling his name? He shook it off. He had watched her roam the hallways, and had watched her get lost. Then he had stopped watching and assumed she had eventually found her room… but now that she was calling for him he changed his mind. She was probably still wandering around.

Miroku desperately wanted to go to her and help her, but he knew he couldn't. He would probably just terrify her more! It was better for her to wander around and find her room by herself.

Suddenly he heard her call his name again. This time, it sounded like she was crying.

His head snapped up, and he frowned. Her voice was full with pleading and terror… surely she wasn't _that_ afraid of being lost! He listened to her screaming, which was beginning to become more and more pitiful. Strange, the direction her voice was coming from… it was almost as if…

"**_MIROKU!_** Please…_please_…I'll die!"

His heart stopped, as he suddenly realized…

_The Torture Room! He hadn't locked the Torture Room!_

Miroku leapt to his feet and fled down the hallways, praying it wasn't too late…


	19. Chapter 19

Sango stopped yelling at last, despair filling her. He couldn't hear her… her only hope was lost. She wanted to keep calling, to get louder, but by now her throat was too dry to even speak loudly, let alone shout.

She curled up on the floor and closed her eyes, trying her hardest to remember where she was. She couldn't give in to this! There was no tropical forest—not even any trees!

_This was just a room in Miroku's house…_

Sango heard a sound, but didn't dare look up. She was afraid that if she opened her eyes, the forest would appear again.

She kept her eyes shut tight, praying that the end was near…

xxxxx

Miroku finally reached the torture room and paused outside of the door. He was afraid of what he would see inside. He quickly brushed that aside and turned the knob…every second counted.

To his relief, Sango was curled up on the floor, her hands covering her face. Miroku went over to her and gently helped her up, ignoring that the door had shut behind him. He knew exactly how to get out, anyway.

He shook her softly, but she didn't look up.

"Sango?"

xxxxx

"_Sango?"_

She opened her eyes and gazed up as she heard her name, hardly daring to believe that Miroku had come. What if she was just hallucinating? What if it wasn't really him, but yet another cruel trick from this room?

The vision of Miroku knelt down and without thinking wrapped its arms around her, not romantically, but in a comforting way. Sango's heart leapt when she realized she could feel him. It really _was_ Miroku!

"Oh, Miroku!" Sango turned towards him and buried her head in his shirt. She tried to hold back her tears, but couldn't… this room terrified her beyond belief.

Miroku held her awkwardly, not prepared for this response. He carefully helped her to her feet, and then guided her out of the room. When the door had finally shut behind them, Sango looked up, as if to make sure they were truly out. She took a deep, shuddering breath, and then realized something.

"Miroku… What was that room?"

"What do you mean?" he wouldn't meet her gaze.

"That room! Why is it in your house? What's it for?" Sango stopped and turned to him, but he still averted her eyes.

"It's nothing, Sango. Forget about it… that room is a part of my past I would rather not bring up."

Sango chewed on her lip for a moment, and then decided not to say anything more about it… for now. She wouldn't forget it, though… that room had nearly _killed _her! Miroku led her back to her room, and let her inside. Abruptly she noticed something wrong. "Miroku… why are your hands bandaged?"

She got the feeling he was becoming just the slightest bit irritated with her inquiries. "Enough questions. It's not of your concern." Then he turned to go.

"No!" Sango cried out immediately. He couldn't leave her alone again… the silence would drive her insane! If he planned to keep her here forever, which was what he had implied, she didn't want to forever be alone, surrounded by the suffocating darkness.

Miroku, understanding the reason for her fear, walked over to the matches and candles he had left on her bedside table. He lit several torches and placed them in holders around the room until the entire place was lit.

"You may read for a little while." he told her softly, "I have business to attend to, but I will be back, if you need me."

Sango nodded. She felt slightly better now that the room was well lit. Suddenly a thought struck her, and she began to ask, "What business—"

But he was gone.

xxxxx

Miroku stepped into the boat that he had tied by his house. He was about to push off from the shore when suddenly he noticed something. Instantly, his eyes narrowed. Someone else had found the other emergency boat he had hidden on the opposite shore.

Miroku quietly stepped out from the boat he had been about to push off in and faded back into the shadows before the person could notice him. Quietly, he began to wade out into the water, confident that this person would not reach the other side.

Before he could submerge completely, however, he recognized the person in the boat. Miroku frowned slightly, then backed out of the water and blended back in with the shadows.

He waited until the person had reached the shore, and tied the boat up. Then, without a sound, he crept up behind the man and hissed, "What are you doing here, Inuyasha?"

xxxxx

Inuyasha spun around, slightly startled, knowing at the same time that he shouldn't be. He knew Miroku too well to still jump every time he snuck up on him. And besides, a demon like himself should hear the faintest sound of footsteps on a cellar floor…

"Cut the shit, Miroku. I was waiting too goddam long."

All of a sudden Inuyasha took in Miroku's damp clothes. An amused look came over his face. "Going to drown me, huh, Miroku?"

Miroku ignored the question, eyes blazing slightly. "I'll repeat myself, then—Why are you here?"

Inuyasha skittered around that question as well, and answered instead with another one. "Where is Sango?"

Miroku pretended he hadn't heard, and instantly said back, "You shouldn't be here, Inuyasha."

The hanyou snorted. "I heard a girl screaming down here. What have you been doing down here, all alone by yourself, Miroku? Having any naughty thoughts?"

Miroku's blood ran hotly through his veins. "Are you here just to insult me, my friend? Most companions don't do such things to one another! "

There was a short pause, and then Miroku glowered and began to walk back towards his house, motioning for Inuyasha to follow.

"Why are your hands bandaged, idiot?" Inuyasha sighed in realiztion. "Miroku! Those mirrors—"

"We'll talk inside. I will answer your questions, if you'll answer mine." Miroku continued walking at a faster pace, for now he was aggravated beyond belief, and if Inuyasha hadn't been his only friend, there was nothing else stopping him from pulling out a Punjab lasso and ending the hanyou's life on the spot.

"Fine…if you answer _my_ questions truthfully."

"And if I don't?"

Inuyasha sighed again. He had figured this would be difficult, but he had forgotten just how belligerent Miroku could be. "If you don't, then I won't answer your questions truthfully, either!"

The two reached the music room, and Miroku pushed the door open. "You first—why are you here?"

xxxxx

Sango looked up from her book, frowning. She could have sworn she had heard people talking… After a moment, she shook it off. It was probably just the silence getting to her. A few minutes later, however, she heard the voices again. One was definitely Miroku, but the other was alien to her.

As quietly as she could, she stood and crept down the hallway towards the voices. They were in the music room, that much she could see already. Sango hesitated for a moment, wondering if this was a good idea. Would Miroku get angry if she listened in? Most likely… Then, however, she heard her name. She couldn't restrain herself, and instantly peered inside.

xxxxx

"Miroku, I think you already know why I am here."

"If it has something to do with Sango—"

"It has _everything_ to do with Sango!"

Miroku sneered.

There was a moment of silence, and Miroku gave Inuyasha a murderous glare.

"Sango went missing, Miroku! Whether you know it or not, people have noticed! I was just _stupid_ these past three days and…" Inuyasha blushed at his own idiocy. "…I finally decided to pay you a visit. Miroku, is she here?"

Miroku didn't answer, but then, Inuyasha hadn't exactly expected him to. "When did you hear Sango was missing?"

"Last night. It's all over the newspapers… how the leading lady mysteriously disappeared after the gala."

"So why do you think that_ I _have her?" Miroku demanded.

"I didn't think of you until I heard Monsieur de Baka, the new patron (at this, Inuyasha sweat dropped, for Miroku had known who the patron was…and he knew all too well), arguing with the managers. He seemed to think that Sango had been kidnapped by some kind of 'Angel of Music.'" Inuyasha waited for Miroku to say something, but continued when he didn't. "Anyway, he told them that he was going to meet Sango, but one second she was in her dressing room, and the next she was gone. She hadn't used the door. I know how you love trapdoors, Miroku, but I seriously hadn't thought of them until then. The mirror was very smart thinkin'. It took me nearly three hours to find out how to open it. But then, I know your style… that's how it became obvious to me that you had used the mirror as a doorway in the first place."

Still Miroku said nothing. Inuyasha exhaled. "Please Miroku, you haven't hurt her?"

Miroku finally answered by shaking his head slightly. "No."

Relief showed clearly on Inuyasha's face. "What do you want from her, then, Miroku? The girl is probably traumatized…"

Miroku winced. "She came here of her own free will. Inuyasha, I'm going to return her to the Opera tomorrow… I just…" he sighed. "I don't know what I wanted… and so I cannot tell you. Perhaps I just wanted someone else down here—"

"You're lonely…"

"Of course not! Besides, she was too curious for her own good. Right now she is in her room, probably wishing she could be as far away from this place as possible."

"She removed your mask?"

"Stop those infernal guesses—I'm not going to tell you what happened, Inuyasha, as it is none of your business!"

"Well then, one last question—why _are_ your hands bandaged?"

"Mirror." Miroku said simply.

Inuyasha winced. "_I knew it!_ Miroku…MIROKU! I thought you were passed destroying mirrors. If they bother you so much, then why do you have them down here?"

Miroku sighed. "I tire of your endless questions, Inuyasha. Perhaps you should go now."

Inuyasha stood. "Yeah, sure. But I'm coming back, Miroku! So don'tcha pull me into your lake. I don't like to swim."

Miroku watched him walk to the door, then turned and sat down at his organ. He gently stroked the keys, trying to quash the unwanted memories that Inuyasha's unneeded appearance had stirred. _He couldn't live in the past any longer_.

xxxxx

Sango let out a silent gasp and stumbled backwards as the half demon man exited. There was no place for her to run and hide, and there was a moment of silence as their eyes met.

"Sango?" Inuyasha asked at last.

Sango nodded, glancing nervously back at the door. She couldn't bear to let Miroku know that she had overheard the conversation—she didn't want to upset him more than he already was. And now she just felt childish in not recognizing Inuyasha or his voice. She glanced down at the floor, embarrassed.

"Sango…" Inuyasha hesitated, "I'll take you back to the dressing room. Miroku might be angry with me, but it's a risk I'm willing to take. You probably want out of here…"

Sango hesitated, not sure of what she wanted. Not quite sure what to think. So Inuyasha knew Miroku, huh? Well, no matter. Sango didn't care anymore. Anyway, Sango knew that she didn't want Kuronosuke and the managers to worry over her disappearance, but she couldn't stand the thought of Miroku's condition if she just got up and left him without even a goodbye. Finally, her heart overruled her guilt, and she shook her head.

"No…I'll stay."

Inuyasha frowned thoughtfully at her, then nodded and walked off towards the front doors. Sango cast a worried look at the music room, and then headed in the opposite direction. Miroku would never know she had left.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N:** This is a somewhat fluffy chapter… so beware. I'm sorry to those of you who don't like them (who doesn't like them!) but if I make this M/S, I have to help them build their relationship first. The action comes later…

And…I kind of want reviews. Oh please, don't tell me I'm greedy! I'm really not… it's just, with each chapter; I feel I lose reviewers (maybe even readers!).

**I won't continue this story if no one has interest in it! Therefore, I ask that I have _at least_ 190 reviews in order to continue updating!**

HAPPY READING!

Sango finally reached her room, and curled back up on the bed, thinking. She cursed herself for not asking more questions about Miroku when she'd had the chance—She barely knew anything about him, and she just _knew_ that Inuyasha would have the answers. She knew, at least, that _Erik_ wouldn't answer any of her questions.

She winced as she thought back to the conversation between the two men. She had wondered why Miroku's hands were bandaged… she just hadn't guessed that it was also she who had been the cause of it. Deep down, Sango knew it wasn't really her fault, but if she hadn't gotten him so upset…

Sango reached over and picked up her discarded book, determined to lose her thoughts inside of its covers.

She was so immersed in the story that she didn't even realize it when Miroku slipped into her room. For a moment, he lingered in the shadows, not wanting to frighten her. Finally, he stepped out into the light and cleared his throat.

xxxxx

Sango jumped and looked up, then quickly cast the book aside. "Miroku?"

For a moment he just looked at her, before saying, "I decided not to go anywhere for the time being. I ran into an old friend on the way out… but then, you already knew that, didn't you?" his eyes glinted.

Sango blinked, frowning. Slowly, however, she realized what he was implying… he had known she was there!

A blush crept across her cheeks, and she ducked her head so that he didn't see. Miroku, however, crossed the room. After a moment of hesitation, he placed a hand under her chin and delicately lifted it up so they were eye to eye.

"I also know," Miroku continued softly, "That he offered to take you back. He offered to take you away from this hell… and you refused. Why did you stay, Sango?"

Sango stared back at him for a moment, not sure how to answer. She was about to when he swiftly placed a finger to her lips.

"And tell me the truth," he warned, "I can see through your lies. Was it pity? Fear?"

"I-I don't know." Sango admitted shamefully. Was it because she was afraid he'd harm her? She wasn't sure. It was more probable that she pitied him, though. In his anger, he had never harmed her—at least, not badly—he had ended up hurting himself more. So perhaps it was fear…just not fear for _her_ safety.

There was a moment of silence, and then Miroku stepped away, turning to leave. "Very well, then, I will see you tomorrow when I come to return you. Until then."

"No…wait!" Sango quickly reached out and grabbed his wrist. He turned back to face her with a confused, and somewhat irritated, expression on his face.

"What is it?"

"Your hands…I feel responsible…"

He snatched them away. "Don't." he said shortly. "It was my fault, not yours—"

"But if I hadn't gotten you upset, you wouldn't have… have…Please, just let me see—"

"Haven't you already seen enough?"

The angry retort rang between them, and Miroku almost instantly regretted it. Sango winced, hurt.

Miroku sighed, "Sango, believe me, it is not your fault. Please, don't worry about it."

"Miroku, I won't give up until you let me. If you leave, I'll wander around until I find you. By the way, there wouldn't happen to be any _other_ murderous rooms that you left open for me? Because you might want to warn me this time before I accidentally walk into them and get trapped in there." her eyes flashed.

In turn, Miroku grimaced. Finally, he gave in. He felt as if he owed her something for nearly killing her—though, of course, he didn't! The sooner this was over, the better. Tentatively, he held out his bandaged hands.

Sango couldn't help but smile slightly with triumph, which awarded her a glower from Miroku. She carefully took a hold of his hands and began to remove the bandages from them, letting him sit down on the very edge of her bed as she did so.

Miroku shifted uncomfortably, sitting as far away from her as possible.

Finally, Sango got the bandages off of his right hand, then his left, and gasped. His hands, which she remembered as being long, slender, and white, had angry red gashes on them. Some of them were rather deep, and bled freely as she held them. Her eyes widened as she noticed he hadn't even bothered to take out the glass that was embedded in them still. As a matter of fact, it would probably be difficult for him to manage that himself…

Miroku began to pull his hands away, but Sango clung to them delicately, trying not to hurt him. "You didn't even take out the glass!" she exclaimed.

Miroku shrugged dismissively, and attempted to move away again. Sango, however, wouldn't let him.

"Here, let me—"

"Sango, don't be foolish! Let me leave, and you will hear no more from me."

"But I—"

"_Please_, Sango." His eyes silently pleaded with her, and in them she saw his fear of being hurt for a second time. She flinched inwardly… would he never trust her again? If he didn't, she wouldn't blame him.

"Miroku, I only want to help you, truthfully! Please just let me do this, and I will let you go. I won't ever forgive myself if you don't." She wouldn't ever forgive herself anyway…

After a moment, Miroku gently pulled away. "You'll need water and a damp cloth." he said at last. "Also a knife, unless you plan to pick the glass out with your fingernails."

Sango relaxed her grip and nodded. "Where can I find those things?"

Miroku paused as he inwardly fought with himself one last time, and then said, "Follow me."

xxxxx

"She wouldn't come back…" Inuyasha sighed, grasping the broom handle and sweeping up the stage. Inuyasha, if anything, was baffled.

Kagome gave him a look that bored into his eyes.

"Whatcha mean she wouldn't come back?" Shippou said from his comfortable position in Kagome's arms.

She shushed the kitsune and softly patted him on the head. "I'm sure she had a good reason for staying, right Inuyasha?" She met him at his side, and Inuyasha stopped his duties only to shrug at her.

"Well, why else would she stay there?" Shippou whispered into Kagome's left ear.

Kagome frown, and turned to Inuyasha once more, knowing that he wouldn't have the desired answer.

Shippou shivered. Oh, the stories he had heard! The Opera Ghost was not a friend— far from it! He was a prankster, a punk (as Shippou had called him one day as he saw the dark figure retreat into the shadows. He had just scared a group of ballet girls, plus him, for Shippou was the only male in the party.). Why would poor, innocent Sango insist on staying down in the dark subterranean of a damp cellar? It didn't make any sense!

"The only thing I can think of—" But then Inuyasha stopped himself and quickly shook his head. "No, Sango's not that stupid…"

"What?" Kagome and Shippou cried in unison.

Inuyasha growled, flying his hands to his dog ears. "Quiet!" There was a loud crash as broom hit wood, and the two automatically went mute.

"What if Sango likes Mir— the Opera Ghost?"

Shippou laughed uneasily. "I say, Inuyasha, you must have taken too many blows to the head. Imagine! Sango and…and…I don't even know what he is. It just would be disgusting"

Inuyasha pounded him on the head.

"What was that for!"

"For being an idiot!" Inuyasha snorted, picking up the deserted broom and slinking away from them.

"What's eating him?" Shippou pondered, rubbing his sore head and continuing to stare in Inuyasha's direction.

Kagome stayed silent.

xxxxx

Neither of them said anything as Miroku led Sango back down the hall. After a little while, he stopped in front of a door, pulling a ring of keys out from a hidden pocket. Swiftly, he chose the right key, slid it into the lock, and turned it. The door clicked open, and the keys vanished once more.

Miroku gently pushed the door open, letting Sango in first.

She stepped into a relatively small room, seemingly made smaller by the shelves that dominated three of the four walls. The shelves were piled with bottles of all kinds, with odd names on labels. Sango had to look at them for a while before realizing that they were different kinds of foreign medicine.

Miroku sat down at the petite table in the middle of the room, watching her as she continued to examine everything. On one shelf, there were fresh bandages. With a quick look at Miroku, Christine reached up and got them down. She also found a small basin, and brought that down as well.

She placed the bandages on the table in front of Miroku, and then looked around for where to get the water. Suddenly she spotted a ditch full of water over in the corner. Sango bent down and examined it, and realized that Miroku must have dug a kind of well, letting the water in so that he didn't have to walk all of the way to the lake when he needed some. This was smart, she thought, but she winced at the notion of using lake water to clean Miroku's wounds.

As there was no other water, however, it would have to do. Sango carefully filled the basin to the brim, and carried it back over to the table, grabbing a cloth on the way.

She soaked the cloth in the water, and then looked up at Miroku. He didn't meet her gaze. Slowly her eyes were drawn downward until they were staring at the object in the table between them.

Sango took a deep breath, and then lifted up the sharp silver knife, walking around the table to kneel beside Miroku. "Give me your hands." she said, gently but firmly.

Miroku placed his bloody hands in hers; not even flinching as she cautiously lifted the knife. She started with his left hand, using the tip of the knife to dig out the glass. The process was making her sick, but she got through the first few pieces without a problem.

When she got to the fifth piece, however, she noticed something that nearly made her heart stop. _Oh no…she couldn't…_ His skin had started to heal over the wound were the glass had entered.

She would have to cut him open to get it out.

Sango took a deep breath and placed the edge of the knife at the edge of the healed wound. She wanted to close her eyes, but knew that she couldn't. That was probably the most stupid thing possible to do.

Quickly, before she could think about it anymore, she slit the wound open with one stroke.

xxxxx

Miroku watched as Sango struggled to remove the glass from his hands, wincing slightly as she did so. It wasn't the pain that made him cringe—after all, he had been through much worse than this—it was the look on her face. He could tell that the sight of his blood sickened her, and he was tempted to move away. She didn't have to do this.

"Sango…"

"Miroku," her voice trembled, "Please don't speak…just let me finish…" she trailed off, shuddering as she made another cut.

Miroku, for once, obediently went silent. He didn't want to distress her even more than she already was.

Finally, she finished getting all of the glass out of his left hand. She half dropped the bloody knife down onto the table, and grabbed the damp cloth. As gently as possible, she cleaned away the blood.

"Sango, there is a salve on the shelf to your left…second from the top. It will stop the cuts from bleeding so much. If you let me up…"

Sango hurriedly got out of his way, and he moved to rummage through the shelves, returning a moment later with a bottle full of thick, greenish-looking ointment. He removed the lid and began to awkwardly rub it into the slashes on his hands.

Sango almost instantly took the bottle away from him. "I'll do it." She delicately rubbed the salve into his hands in soothing little circles.

Miroku closed his eyes, almost enjoying it. Hastily, however, he caught himself and opened them back up. She wasn't doing this because she cared for him; she was doing this out of guilt for something she didn't have any control over.

Finally, she finished and wrapped the fresh bandages tightly around his left hand. Then she moved on to the next one. She was shaking so badly this time that she accidentally made a few cuts in the wrong places. To his dismay, she began to cry.

"M-Miroku… I'm s-sorry… I didn't mean to… I…I…"

"Sango, do not worry about it. I've taken worse than this before…I can hardly feel it. You don't need to continue, if you do not wish to."

"No…I'm almost finished…I can't stop now." Trying to control her trembling hands, Sango continued to dig out the glass.

xxxxx

At long last, Sango completed the gruesome task and cleaned off his hand, checking once more for any glass she might have missed. To her relief, there wasn't any. She spread the salve onto his hand, and then bandaged it.

They both stood, Sango not even realizing that she was shaking all over. Without thinking, she threw her arms around Miroku and clung to him, not noticing as he stiffened under her touch. Never in her life had she done anything like that before, and it had horrified her. She had rarely even seen blood, let alone touched it.

Miroku uncomfortably tried to pull away, but Sango didn't let him. She hung onto him as if he was the last thing on earth. She was quivering even worse now, and it took Miroku a moment to realize that she was crying again.

He hesitated, and then gently stroked her hair, amazed that she didn't flinch away. Instead, she snuggled closer. They stayed like that for a moment, until Miroku bent down and, so lightly that she could hardly feel it, kissed the top of her head.

"Miroku…oh, Miroku! Just look at me!" Sango continued to wail, obscuring her face in his shirt.

"Sango, stop this crying. I do not have a handkerchief to offer you. For you see, it comes in little use when you lack a nose…"

Sango stared up and blinked at him in horrible shock. "Is…is that supposed to be funny?" She cried harder and Miroku kissed her forehead for a second time before slowly pulling away.

"Come, Sango, I shall take you back to your room. Tomorrow, I will return you to the opera."


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N**: _"And it's cool how you use Christine and Erik in place of Sango and _

_Miroku every now and then. It helps remind people of whom they're in place of." _

(Nervous laugh) Yeah…sure. I do that on purpose. Actually, no, I don't. I do that because I'm brainless! The wizard should give me a brain! (Starts whistling) I know it annoys most of you, and I'm sorry. Ummm…I'm trying not to do it anymore. It's a (bad) habit, I suppose.

Anyway, I didn't realize that you guys liked the story so much. And yes, perhaps I am a bit greedy, but it's not just for the number of reviews! It's because **I want to know what you have to say. **It bugs me when people read a chapter and then don't review. _This _author wants you to review, for praise, critique, what ever (…but she also wants you to be kind!)

NOW ONTO THE STORY!

xxxxxxxxxxx

That night, Sango sat in her room, alone once again. To her surprise, she found herself longing for Miroku to be there with her, singing softly or playing the violin, as he used to. How she wished she had never removed his mask! Looking back upon that time, she realized just how foolish she had truly been.

When she recalled his face, she winced slightly. True, it was horrible…but was it as bad as she had made it out to be? It was possible that she had made it worse in her mind, simply because…however much she hated to admit it… she had still thought of him as her angel.

She had _known_, of course, that he wasn't… But his face had been the final factor. No angel could ever have a face like that… or a temper! If it was possible, in that moment, his temper had frightened her even more than his face had. He had always been so gentle with her before then…

Sango twisted a lock of her hair as she reflected on this. True, he had tricked her, kidnapped her, lied to her… but he had done so much to _help_! He had comforted her when she thought she would never be happy again, and reassured her when she had been frightened. He had given her something to look forward to…something to _live _for. He had gently pushed her until she became Prima Donna… her father's dearest wish for her! She knew for sure that he would never try to harm her, and knew just as certainly that she didn't want harm to come to him.

Sango changed for bed and lay back on the pillows. Perhaps she could give him one more chance… At least _one_ more chance to win her love…

What she wouldn't admit to herself was that he already had.

xxxxx

Miroku sat down at his desk, carefully picking up his pen. He knew he had to return her tomorrow…she couldn't remain here forever. Still, he hated to let her go. Deep down, he was completely positive that she would never return to him if he did.

But he had to…there was no other choice. If he kept her now, after he had promised to let her go, she would hate him forever… allowing, of course, that she didn't already.

Miroku sighed and dipped his quill in the customary red ink. He would give another note to the managers tomorrow, after he let Sango go.

For a moment, Miroku paused as he leaned over the note, thinking. Then, ignoring the pain in his bandaged hands, he began to write.

_Sango Youkaitashi has returned to you…_

**A/N: **I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Just…justtry singing _that! _Haha…

xxxxx

The next morning, Sango woke up and for a moment didn't recognize where she was. Her heart fluttered as she looked quickly around the room, trying to place it.

She had become so used to her room in Miroku's home, that she had almost forgotten what her dressing room actually looked like.

Sango sat up in her bed, pushing the blankets off of her. Miroku must have carried her back here sometime in the night. She felt a thrill go up her spine at the thought, wondering what it would have been like had she been awake.

As she walked back over to her desk, she looked at the one-line note that Miroku had left her. It simply read, _"Goodbye, my angel."_

Sango shivered at the finality of the note. Certainly he was coming back?... He wouldn't leave her!

Suddenly she realized that the door to her room was open, and at that very moment Kagome walked past. Sango smiled as she watched her friend freeze mid-step, and then nearly fall over doing a double-take.

"Sango!" A huge smile lit Kagome's face as she sprinted into the room and embraced her friend. "Where were you? We were worried sick! Kagura told everyone that you had gone to visit your father's old friend, but then the Vicomte de Baka went and checked, and the man said she hadn't seen you in nearly a month! Honestly, I thought the Vicomte would have a heart-attack! He's very worried about you, you know. He was convinced that you were still somewhere in the building, too…" Kagome paused for a moment at this. But when Sango didn't care to elaborate, she went on, "because he said you had vanished while he was right outside of your door. He almost forced the managers to call the police and have them look through the building for you. The managers said that they had enough bad publicity as it was, though, and so they refused. Kuronosuke came back this morning and—"

"Wait, he's here?" Sango interrupted quickly.

"Yes, because La Kikyo returned—"

"She did?"

"Yes, and someone gave her a note saying—"

"Who sent the note?"

"Well, it was obviously from the Opera Ghost, wasn't it? And it said—"

"What did it say?"

"I was getting there, would you let me speak?" Kagome glared slightly, and Sango blushed.

"I'm sorry, go on."

"_Anyway_, Kikyo got a note from the Opera Ghost saying that if she tried to go back to being Prima Donna, a "great misfortune" would happen to her. She's _furious_…she's convinced that Kuronosuke sent it, because he wants _you_ to keep being Prima Donna." She twined her fingers together, "Kikyo said you might have been sleeping with the viscount."

"_What_? Of course I didn't! " Sango said, appalled.

Kagome looked at her curiously for a moment. "Well, _I _know that"

"And Kuronosuke certainly didn't send a letter! It was…it was the Opera Ghost." Sango told her friend softly.

Kagome's eyes narrowed. "I thought you didn't believe in the Opera Ghost?"

"I was wrong."

Kagome's face broke into another smile. "Well _finally_ you admit it! What made you change your mind?"

Sango turned away, unable to look Kagome in the face. "You were right." she admitted, trying to keep her voice steady. "All of this time, you were_ right_…I should have listened to you in the first place."

"Sango, what are you talking about?"

"There is no Angel of Music."

There was a long pause as Kagome put everything together. Finally, she gently laid a hand on Sango's shoulder. "I know."

Sango turned towards her, a question in her eyes.

Kagome sighed. "I found out a little while ago that your Angel was actually the Phantom. I didn't want you to get angry at me, though, so I didn't say anything."

"How did you know?"

The ballerina hesitated for a moment. "Well…I…My friend kind of…knows him. Along with Madame Kaede—"

There was a silence as Sango registered this. "Madame Kaede…she _knows_ Miroku? Why didn't she tell me before? I could have—"

"Would you have believed her?"

There was another pause. "Well…no." she confessed. "And…and Inuyasha. He knew, too!"

Kagome's mouth gaped, before finally responding. "Inuyasha wasn't happy that Miroku was pretending to be your Angel. I mean, obviously he wasn't _happy_…but he was really angry at him. He said something to him…I forget what…something about him being a man of perverted fantasies…Oh, I forget. Anyway, then The Opera Ghost got angry and left."

Sango winced. Inuyasha…and poor Miroku! He got so touchy about that kind of thing…she was _sure_ Madame Keade and Inuyasha hadn't been talking about his face…they was smarter than that.

"So where were you?" Kagome demanded, cutting through Sango's thoughts like a knife.

"With…him. But Kagome, please don't ask about anything else, I can't tell you."

Kagome frowned slightly, then sighed and nodded. She knew about Sango and the masked man… she just wanted to hear it from Sango's mouth.

"Very well. Soon, though?" she looked hopeful. "You'll be able to tell me, won't you?"

Sango smiled. "Of course."

She was about to continue, when suddenly she heard a very familiar voice.

"Sango! Oh Lord, Sango!" And then Kuronosuke was in the room, his arms around her protectively.

xxxxx

Miroku's cobalt eyes blazed as he watched Kuronosuke embrace Sango…_his_ Sango. Almost unconsciously, his hand crept to where the Punjab lasso was hidden. _The foolish boy would regret that he was even born if he just made one more move…_

Suddenly Miroku realized what he was doing and hastily dropped his hand. Why did Sango have that effect on him? After all, she wasn't his… she never would be his. He _knew_ that… and yet, he couldn't seem to let her go.

The note he had written to her was a fraud, of course. He desperately _wanted_ to let her leave him, but he knew he wouldn't be able to. Just thinking about life without Sango threw him off into a rage that eventually ended in tears.

That's how this entire affair would end, he was sure. There was no possible way that his beloved angel would consent to stay with him. This… this _Kuronosuke_ deserved her much more than he did.

If Sango went with the Vicomte, she could live a life of luxury. He supposed it would be full of light and beauty—the exact opposite of what she'd get if she stayed with _him._ And, of course, with the Vicomte she wouldn't have to be afraid of the dark. He'd be there to hold her, to…

Miroku swiftly cut off his train of thought and turned away from the mirror. There was a lump in his throat, and his hands were clenched into fists.

No, no matter how good his intentions were, he _couldn't _let her go… She was _his_, and he would do _anything_ to keep her.

xxxxx

Sango lingered in Kuronosuke's embrace for an instant, momentarily forgetting where she was. She could almost imagine she was back with Miroku...

But no, this most certainly _wasn't_ Miroku. Christine pushed away from Kuronosuke quickly, blushing. "Kuronosuke…it's nice to see you again."

"Sango, where were you?" he began instantly. "I looked everywhere! You just…disappeared!"

Sango managed a weak smile. "Kuronosuke, don't be foolish—I went to visit a friend of the family, but the carriage lost a wheel on the way there. I was forced to rent a room for a little while, until I could find a way to return here. I didn't have enough money to order another carriage, and it was too far to walk. Then just as my rent was nearly up, a kind lady offered to ride me back for free. She said that it was on her way anyway."

Kuronosuke frowned. "But…but I heard your voice that night! Outside of your door—"

"Kuronosuke, were you _spying_ on me?"

"N-no… I didn't _mean_ to…I just came back to take you to dinner—"

"Which I told you I didn't want." Sango cut in firmly.

Kuronosuke looked desperately to Kagome for help, but she quickly fled and abandoned him. Kuronosuke gulped. He was either was too guilty to answer Sango's statement, or genuinely hadn't heard her in his despair, "But the door was closed, and when I knocked no one answered. Then I heard voices…yours, and someone else's… I couldn't really hear it, it was too quiet. I called out your name, but still you didn't answer. Then, when I opened the door, you had vanished!"

Sango forced a dismissive look onto her face. "Kuronosuke, you must have been imagining things. Either that or you heard echoes from another room. I told you what happened."

"Yes, but was it true?" Kuronosuke asked sharply.

There was a moment of silence, and then Sango glared at him. "Of course it's true! Why would I lie to you?"

"Who knows?" Kuronosuke returned, "Perhaps you were threatened? Sango, just answer me one question—who is Miroku?"

Sango gasped audibly, unprepared for this sudden development. "Mir-Miroku? I have…no idea what you're talking about…" Sango stuttered unbelievably.

"Oh, really?" Kuronosuke pushed. He leaned close and gently laid his arms around her waist, his face bare inches from hers. "Who is he Sango? Has he hurt you?"

Sango mind was in a whirl as she scrambled for something to say. "N-no…he…he…"

"He's a friend mine." Inuyasha answered for her, walking in through the door just in time to hear Sango sigh in relief. Inuyasha looked at her, watching her quickly mouth the words 'thank you' with her lips.

Kuronosuke frowned and let go of Sango, turning to Inuyasha. "_Really_? Then what was he doing in _Sango's_ room?" Kuronosuke placed a defensive arm around Sango's shoulders.

"He wasn't." Inuyasha answered, looking up innocently. "You must have heard Madame Kaede's conversation with him through the walls. This place is weird…sound carries in odd ways. I can tell you that Miroku was meeting with the old hag, and it had nothing to do with Sango… by the time Miroku had even arrived, Sango had left for her friend's."

There was a moment of silence as Inuyasha and Kuronosuke locked eyes. Inuyasha held firm, however, and eventually Kuronosuke was convinced. He sighed. "Very well. Sango." he turned back to her, "I'm very glad you are all right. It seems you've had a troublesome past few days…I'm sorry I only managed to make them worse. Can you forgive me?" He looked truly remorseful.

Sango's smile was genuine this time. "Of course, Kuronosuke. I know that you were only worried, it's all right…I'm sorry I was so jumpy, I just…have been under a lot of stress lately."

"I'm sure you have. Why don't you rest, and I'll ask the managers to let you have the day off? I'm sure that, under the circumstances, they'll let you go for a day."

"Oh, no, Kuronosuke! Really, I'm fine."

"But I insist! I think you could use a day of relaxation. I'll make the arrangements immediately." he started for the door, and then paused. "And, perhaps…" he hesitated for a moment, before hurrying on, "Perhaps you could join me for dinner tonight? I mean… to celebrate your return, of course…I…"

Sango interrupted him before he could get himself even more confused. "Well, Kuronosuke, I'm not sure…"

Kuronosuke's disappointed look went straight to her heart. Well, why _couldn't_ she go to dinner with him? He _was_ her friend, wasn't he? And besides… Miroku seemed to have deserted her…what harm could come of a simple dinner?

"Actually, Kuronosuke, I'd like that. I'd like that very much." She smiled, and his eyes lit up.

"Perfect! Shall I pick you up at five, then?"

She nodded her assent.

"Five it is, then!" he hesitated for just a moment more, before crossing back over to her and pecking her on the cheek. Then he left.

Sango stood completely still for a moment, shocked. Finally Inuyasha's voice brought her back to reality.

"Are you sure you're doing the right thing?"

Sango blinked for a moment, and then suddenly said, "What are you talking about, Inuyasha?"

"Whatever." Inuyasha shook his head at the ground. "…I don't think I can lie like that again."

Sango smiled gratefully. "Thank you once more…"

"Don't thank me. Kagome's the one who came and told me of your predicament. I think you really should rest, Sango. There are shadows under your eyes. You should use this time to catch up on your sleep. Anyway, I'll see you later…" And Inuyasha turned towards the door.

Sango nodded, and she could have sworn that Inuyasha looked morose. "Goodbye, then."

Inuyasha sighed a second time and left.

xxxxx

Miroku seethed inwardly each time Kuronosuke held Sango, but his anger turned to surprise when the boy announced that he knew Miroku's name. Miroku wasn't often surprised, and he didn't like the sensation much.

He watched anxiously as Sango stuttered, certain that any minute she was going to admit everything. What reason did she have to protect him, after all?

Then Inuyasha had cut in with a quick excuse. To his further amazement, the foolish Vicomte _believed_ Inuyasha's lies. Miroku let out a small sigh of relief. _Thank Kami-sama for him…_

He felt a slight pang of guilt as he remembered his last conversation with Inuyasha. He would have to do something to make it up to him…

This train of thought, however, was interrupted with a fresh wave of anger when Kuronosuke asked Sango to dinner with him.

_But of course, she'll decline…_

He smiled as Sango began to politely refuse the Vicomte's request, but the smile froze when she stopped. He saw her eyes flicker to the note on her desk, and then watched as she hesitated. Finally, she smiled at Kuronosuke and accepted his invitation.

Miroku's hands clenched again. _How dare she? She was his, and she'd do well to remember that! _In that moment, he refused to listen to logic. He didn't want to acknowledge that it was probably his fault for writing the letter. _Besides_, he reasoned _He didn't say he'd let her go... she had only inferenced that!_

His anger flared out of control when the boy had the nerve to kiss Sango. His hand slipped back to the Punjab lasso, and he just barely restrained himself from bursting in and snapping Kuronosuke's neck.

He closed his eyes and took a breath, then waited until Inuyasha had gone.

Then he reached for the latch on the mirror.

xxxxx

**A/N**: Wow, my longest chapter ever! Woot! Uggh…_Kuronosuke_. Lol, sorry for those of you who like him…I just…_don't_. Raoul, him…I hate them both! Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter! Thank you for reading, and please review!


	22. Chapter 22

A/N: Lacking feedback…must do something about it. My goal for this entire story is **approx. 350 reviews** (only because my _Phantom of the Opera_ fan fiction got 301, and I'm trying to surpass that and reach a higher goal) But don't worry, with the pace I'm going at, I'm sure it's not impossible…

You're all going to hate me… I took a potentially fluffy chapter and completely ruined it whoops… Lol, oh well. By the way, you'd be surprised how many of you offered to take the Punjab lasso and kill Kuronosuke _for_ Miroku. It was actually pretty funny… All most every review said something along the lines of, "Don't worry, Miroku, I'll do it for you!" ((takes the Punjab lasso and snaps Kuronosuke's neck)) … Wow. We're so _violent…_)

I want reviews because they entertain me to such a full extent!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sango jumped as there was a sound from behind her. For a moment she stared at her reflection, and then Miroku was in the room with her.

It took her a moment to register this, and then her face lit up with a smile. "Miroku! I thought you'd left me, I…" she trailed off when she met his gaze. He was angry…_ terribly _angry.

The color slowly drained from Sango's face. "Miroku? What—"

"_Why_ did you except that boy's invitation to dinner?" he hissed at her.

Sango took a stumbling step backwards. "He's just a friend…I thought it was a nice request…"

"_He_ obviously doesn't view _you_ as 'just a friend'." Miroku crossed the distance between them and moved to grab her arms roughly, then realized what he was doing and jerked back.

They stared at each other for a moment, and the anger slowly melted out of Miroku's eyes. He turned away, already regretting he had come in. "Sango… I'm sorry… I meant to leave you alone…"

He was about to continue, but Sango placed a hand on his shoulder and gently turned him to face her.

"I'm glad that you didn't." she said softly. She only hesitated a moment before reaching up and removing his mask. Miroku immediately wrenched himself from her grasp and tried to cover his face, but she stopped him.

Standing up on her tiptoes, she gently kissed his deformed cheek. It was only a small, chaste, friendly gesture, but it was still more than Miroku was used to.

He immediately turned his face away, shocked and amazed that she had dared to do what even his mother had been afraid of. _What she cried over! _Sango stepped closer, but Miroku took his mask from her hands and turned away.

"Very well, Sango… go with the Vicomte. Forget I was ever here. I shall try not to upset you further by coming again."

"Miroku…no…wait, don't go—" but she was too late, and Miroku had already disappeared beyond the mirror.

xxxxx

"'ow _dare_ you! Geeving _my_ part 'oo zat _leetle_—_leetle…_" Apparently Kikyo couldn't find a word bad enough for Sango, so she wrung her hands and screamed, "Zat leetle _toad_!"

"Dude, what's up with your voice?" Ginta laughed at her newfound accent. Apparently, since Kikyo is playing the part of Carlotta, she thought it was in the best interest to talk like her as well. It provides comedy relief and a bit of OOCness in such a dramatic story like mine.

"La Kikyo, please try to understand…we had no leading lady! What were we _supposed_ to do?" Ginta pleaded, shaking it off.

"'Oo were_ zepposed _to cancel ze show!"

"But we had a _full_ house!" Hakkaku exclaimed, "We _couldn't_ cancel!"

"Yes, 'oo _could._" Kikyo turned on her heel and began to march out of the door. Ginta and Hakkaku exchanged glances, before hurrying to catch up with her.

"But you are our Prima Donna! You cannot leave again!" Ginta exclaimed.

"Vatch me!" As the managers looked on, Kikyo made to leave through the door, but her hoop skirt was too wide for the frame. After moments of struggling, she managed to turn the hoop sideways, and fell through with a muffled thud.

Kikyo got up and brushed herself off, then glared at the managers as if it was their fault. "You're doors should bee _vider_." she informed them huffily. After brushing the wrinkles out their clothes, she straightened up and crossed her arms. There was a moment of silence, and then Kikyo said, "_Vell_?"

"Well what?" Hakkaku asked, but was only met with a glare.

"_Vell_, vhat are 'oo goeeng to _do_?"

Hakkaku blinked. "We'll bring someone in to fix the doorway right away." he assured her.

Kikyo seethed. "I didn't meen _zat_! I meen about _me_."

Hakkaru speculated for a moment before saying, "Well, you _could_ go on a diet—" Ginta hit his partner over the head with a bundle of letters.

"Just shut _up_." he moved over to Kikyo. "Prima Donna…what would we do without you? We _need_ you…your _public_ needs you!"

"Vat about ze _toad_?" Kikyo demanded.

"No one wants _her_… she'll go back to being a chorus girl, as she should be. She just doesn't have the _voice_ to be Prima Donna."

Kikyo smiled, and was about to say something, when a suddenly Hakkaku let out a loud moan. Ginta and Kikyo both turned and glared at him, expecting another inappropriate comment.

"What is it?" Ginta asked impatiently.

"Another _letter_."

Ginta paled considerably. "Let me see it!" He snatched the letter from his partner's hands, ripping it open.

His eyes scanned the note, and then he let out a derisive snort. "It's nothing. Just stupid stuff." With that, he tore the letter in half and dropped it into a basket of old mail beside their desk. Then he turned back to Kikyo.

"_Please_ my lady, be our Prima Donna once more! We are _nothing_ without you."

"_Vell_…" Kikyo seemed to consider for a moment, then announced, "Zince 'oo obfiouslee _need_ mee… af course I vill!"

Ginta looked relieved. "Great! Now, let's talk about your new role…" as they headed down the hallway and out of sight, Hakkaku peered over into the mail basket. He could just make out the blood red handwriting…

_If these demands are not met, a disaster beyond your imagination will occur!_

Hakkaku went white, and hurried after the other two. In his haste and distractedness, he ran straight into the door frame. Hakkaku cursed and rubbed his nose, then glared at the offending piece of wood.

"They really _do _need to make the doors bigger." He sidestepped, and then ran down the hallway to catch up with his colleague.

xxxxx

Miroku collapsed in the darkness, his head in his hands. Why did he _always_ have to ruin everything? He remembered Sango's hurt expression as he vanished into the darkness, and sighed. It was better this way, anyway.

"Miroku?" Sango's voice echoed through the passageway, and Miroku sat up with a curse. Why couldn't she just let him let her go?

He got up and stealthily moved through the shadows. When Sango didn't find him, she'd turn back, he was sure. As he began to walk down the shadowy hallway, he suddenly heard something that made him stop dead in his tracks.

_Kikyo…_

xxxxx

Sango felt her way through the darkness, trying to find where Miroku had gone. She knew she didn't have much chance of finding him… It was impossible to see in the complete blackness, and she didn't know where she was going. She couldn't go too far, or she would get lost.

As she stumbled through the darkness, she nearly ran straight into him. She could see his cobalt eyes narrowed to almost slits, and he was holding something in his hands. Sango crept closer, accidentally knocking a stone loose from the passageway. She looked up quickly, but Miroku hadn't noticed. He was staring in the opposite direction, concentrating.

"Miroku..." she felt the color in her face leave as the light from a small vent in the wall shed light on the object in Miroku's hands. She stepped closer, hoping that she was wrong...but she quickly realized she wasn't. In his hands, he held some kind of noose...

"Miroku! Miroku, what are you doing?" Sango ran up and touched his arm, and he turned to look at her, as if he had noticed her for the first time. His eyes burned with emotions that scared her, and she backed away slightly.

"Miroku?"

His eyes closed for a moment, then reopened. The rage that had been in them a moment ago had vanished completely, as if it had never been there in the first place. When she looked down at his hands, she noticed that the noose was gone as well. Perhaps that had never been there either?

She brought her eyes up to meet his, and then asked the question that she knew she might regret. "What was that?"

xxxxx

Miroku hadn't even seen Sango, he was so lost in his rage. In fact, he hadn't even realized that he had brought the Punjab lasso out from its hiding place. What had possessed him? His eyes darkened slightly as he remembered Kikyo. The _nerve_ she had to return!

"Miroku? What was that?"

Miroku frowned, before realizing that Sango wanted to know what the Punjab lasso was. He couldn't tell her the truth. When he looked back up at her, however, he realized he couldn't lie. To compromise, he decided to say nothing.

Sango was persistent though, and wouldn't let it drop. "Miroku…Miroku, look at me. What were you doing? What was that?" She stepped closer and gently took his arm, turning him back to face her when he tried to pull away.

"It was nothing, Sango. Forget about it." he finally said softly.

"But Miroku—"

"Go back to your room. Kagome will be worried if she comes back during lunch to check on you, and finds you missing. Go back."

"Miroku…" Sango reached up and touched his unmasked cheek. "If I do, promise me that you'll come back."

"Seemingly, I cannot stay away."

That brought a smile to her face. Gently, almost shyly, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his face closer to hers.

Miroku's eyes closed, and he let her get closer. Finally, her lips met his. They just barely brushed, like the wings of a butterfly. Then she got bolder, and pressed them harder against his.

To his amazement, he let her. He couldn't seem to pull away. It was as if he had suddenly lost his ability to move.

Sango took advantage of his helplessness, and closed all space between them, so that her body was resting against his. Her fingers entwined in his hair as she kept his lips down to hers.

To Miroku, it was bliss and agony. He knew that he should stop her… that he should push her away, but he couldn't. He tried at the very least not to react to the kiss, but found himself kissing her back.

Moving as if in a dream, he carefully placed his arms around Sango and held her to him. She was so soft… Miroku moaned quietly as he kissed her, and this seemed to encourage her.

When he felt her tongue meet the seam of his lips, he panicked. His mind shouted, '_What are you doing? Leave now, while you still can!' _But his body wouldn't listen. Instead of pushing her away, as he should have, he found himself parting his lips for her.

Her tongue explored his mouth, and he was powerless to stop her. Almost against his will, he felt the fingers of one hand fumble with the laces on her dress, the other buried deeply in her hair.

xxxxx

Sango didn't think twice about what she was doing. If she did, she might stop, and she didn't want to. She was vaguely surprised that Miroku hadn't shoved her away by now, and yet thrilled that he hadn't.

Her heart skipped a beat when she felt him undo the ties on the back of her dress. His arms clutched her against him, and she didn't protest. Instead she dove deeper into his mouth with her tongue, urging him on.

"_Sango?"_ Kuronosuke's voice echoed from her dressing room.

For a moment, Sango paused and listened to it, but she couldn't identify it. She brushed it out of her mind.

"_SANGO!"_

xxxxx

Miroku gasped and jerked away, stumbling back into the darkness. _What had come over him? _He looked back at Sango, who was now gazing in the opposite direction. Her eyes were wide in fear and panic.

"Miroku! Oh, Miroku, it's Kuronosuke! What will he think? He'll call the police this time for sure…"

Miroku held a finger to her lips, then delicately took her hand and led her down a side passageway. When they reached the end, he opened the trap door, and let Sango out into the hallway not a hundred feet away from her room. "Go back. Tell him you had just taken a walk, and that there's nothing to worry about."

Sango smiled in relief. "Thank you, my trap door lover…"

Miroku he turned to go, blushing at the nickname. But she continued, "Will you still come for my voice lesson this evening?"

He looked away. "You have other…engagements." His voice was sour as he spoke of her dinner with Kuronosuke.

She paused, and then said softly. "I'm suddenly not feeling well, and will be unable to make it."

He was glad that his face was turned away, so that she couldn't see the small smile that graced it. "Then I will be there." He closed the trapdoor behind him.

xxxxx

Sango hurried down the hallway to her room, hoping and praying that she would catch Kuronosuke in time. As she ran, her thoughts wandered back to when she had first run into Miroku in the tunnel. _Whatever he was holding, _she reassured herself, _it couldn't have been a noose._ _I must have been imagining things._

She nearly ran straight into Kuronosuke as he left her room, a frantic look on his face. They stared at each other for a moment, and then Kuronosuke ran and embraced her, a cry of relief escaping his lips.

"Sango! I didn't know what happened to you! Where did you go?"

Sango gently pushed him away. "I was just out for a walk, Kuronosuke. There really isn't much to do in my dressing room."

He smiled and brushed a disheveled brown curl away from her face, then suddenly frowned.

"The laces to your dress are undone."

Sango could feel a hot blush forming on her cheeks. "Oh, I…well I must have…I must have forgotten to tie them." she stuttered, not meeting his eyes. Her cheeks were getting hotter by the second. "I hope no one saw that on my walk, at least it was short." She _hated_ lying to him.

Kuronosuke chuckled amusedly. "I'm glad that I'm the one who noticed, then. Here, let me tie them for you."

Sango hesitated, then obligingly turned and lifted her hair out of the way. In a matter of seconds, Kuronosuke had it tied back up, and she turned around to face him again.

His eyes were twinkling merrily, and there was a smile on his face. "I can't wait until dinner tonight. Did you pick out what you're going to wear?"

Sango's heart sank. She hadn't been looking forward to this. "Oh, Kuronosuke… I'm sorry, I can't."

His face fell. "Why ever not?"

"I'm not feeling well after the trip. After all, I _did_ only get back early this morning. I was hoping I would start to feel better during the day, but it's only gotten worse. That's why I was heading back to my room. I'm so sorry, Kuronosuke."

Kuronosuke looked heartbroken. She could tell he had been really looking forward to this dinner.

He looked so upset that she couldn't stop herself from saying, "Perhaps tomorrow night?" As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she regretted them. Miroku had been upset that she had been going to dinner with Kuronosuke tonight…simply moving it to tomorrow night wouldn't make anything better.

Kuronosuke, however, looked as if Christmas had come early. "Of course! I should have been more understanding, Sango." He kissed her gently on the forehead. "Tomorrow night, then."

Sango could only nod, and he backed up. "I have a meeting to go to with my brother. I'll see you soon!" Kuronosuke quickly kissed her lips, and then left.

Sango walked back into her dressing room, and shut the door. Perhaps Miroku hadn't heard the arrangement for tomorrow night. She could find out if he had or not this evening.

If he hadn't heard… well, what he didn't know couldn't hurt him, right?

xxxxx

**A/N**: DON'T YOU JUST HATE KURONOSUKE? RUINING MY POTENTIAL LEMON! ((laughs)) HOW **DARE** HE?

Miroku and Erik: You're too innocent to write such things!

Christine: Oh, am I?

Erik: ((to Miroku)) She's been hanging around you for far too long.

Christine: Review, my friends! I want millions of reviews all explaining exactly how you're going to kill Kuronosuke! No one likes a debtor, its better if my orders are obeyed! ((Slightly darker tone)) Or else a disaster beyond your imagination will occur…

Miroku: ((to Erik, wide eyed)) She got that from you…

Erik: And how happy it's made me!


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: **I _think_ this chapter contains a slight lime. I only say 'I think' because I'm not quite sure what the exact definition for a lime is. Silly, silly me! (can somebody tell me?) Remember to review, loves! Sango and Miroku are personally waiting to hear from you.

Sango: I like Houshi-sama in this story; he seems like himself…without being a lecher.

Miroku: I'm…a bit angry in this story, aren't I?

Sango: Its better you act violent than perverted.

Christine: Ummm…sure…whatever you say, Sango.

Miroku was still so shocked and confused over what had happened in the passageway that he failed to hear Sango's conversation with Kuronosuke. Normally, he heard everything that was going on, and wouldn't have missed it…especially since it involved Kuronosuke and Sango. Instead of following her and listening to their conversation, however, he had wandered the passageways. Eventually, he found himself outside of the door that led to Inuyasha's room.

He sighed…this was as good a time as any to apologize to her. He wasn't good at apologizing, so he wasn't sure how he was going to go about doing it. Besides, what did he have to apologize _for_? Nothing. He had done nothing wrong, had he? Of course not. Miroku turned and continued on back to his lair.

Sango counted the minutes until her lesson with Miroku. The day seemed like an eternity, even when Kagome was there to talk to during break. Every second was a minute, every minute an hour, and every hour a year.

She passed the time by singing a few of the songs she had learned, but eventually got tired and sat down to read. Sometimes while she was reading, she'd be sure a few hours had gone passed. Then she would look up at the clock expectantly, only to realize it had been minutes.

Eventually she fell asleep, the book still clutched in one hand.

Miroku stopped playing the organ for a moment and turned to look at the candle he had that marked the hours. It was time for Sango's voice lesson. _Finally_.

He stood and brushed the wrinkles out of his clothes, then grabbed the violin and started off towards her room.

When he reached it, he paused a moment to catch his breath. Then he straightened up and looked inside.

Sango was lying sprawled out across her bed, fast asleep.

He smiled softly, and then quietly pressed the mechanism that opened the mirror, and stepped into her room. Noiselessly, he crossed it and stood beside her, gazing down at her sleeping form.

Suddenly taken by impulse, he knelt down beside her and reached out to smooth a few chocolate curls back into place. Then he delicately removed one of his gloves and gently touched her forehead. His fingers, just barely gliding over her skin, traced the outline of her face. They traveled across her eyelashes, and down the slope of her nose, treasuring each detail.

Finally, his fingers reached her lips. He hesitated, reassuring himself that she was sleeping. Then he moved his fingers across her lips, tenderly caressing them. He froze when she let out a small sigh, and then jerked back as if he had been touched by a hot coal.

After several long moments, he realized that she must have just sighed in her sleep, and returned his fingertips to her lips. They were so soft, so red…

Miroku leaned over her, his face scant inches away from hers. What would it feel like for him to kiss her, instead of her kissing him? What would happen if he took the lead? Miroku paused for a moment, making sure she was still asleep.

Then he leaned down and took her lips in his.

After all, what she didn't know couldn't hurt her…right?

Sango had half woken up when she had heard the distinct _click_ of the mirror mechanism. She kept her eyes closed, though. She had been having a good dream…

Slowly she began to wander back into unconsciousness, vaguely wondering what time it was, and what was touching her hair. She was jerked back into reality, however, when she felt his hand touch her forehead.

Sango lay completely still as his hands traveled across her face. Did he know she was awake? Probably not. That was the only thing that she could think of that would explain his boldness. At all other times, if she didn't take the lead he seemed almost afraid to touch her.

Hence, she decided to feign that she was sleeping. She didn't want to scare him away again, and she was nearly certain that if he knew she was awake, he would stop.

When his fingers touched her lips, she couldn't stop herself from letting out a gasp. She regretted it, for instantly he jerked back. Hoping that he would resume his caresses if he thought she were still asleep, Sango lay motionless again, her breathing even.

As she had hoped, his fingers returned to her lips a moment later. It was all she could do to keep silent as she felt him draw nearer. Then his fingers were gone, and she could feel his warm breath on her lips in their place. He was so close… she wanted to reach up and pull him down to her, but restrained herself. _Kiss me, _she urged him, _Please kiss me…_

The suspense was beginning to kill her. She couldn't take this much longer…

Finally, she felt his soft lips on hers, and had to stifle a moan of pleasure. For a while he kissed her, gently massaging her lips with his own. She didn't want him to stop, and had to control her urge to hold his head down to hers. Then he did something she didn't expect.

Sango just barely prevented her eyes from flying wide open when she felt his tongue run across her bottom lip. It felt like warm velvet, supple and surprisingly moist against her dry lips.

She couldn't breath, fearing that if she did she would let out some sort of sound that would tell him that she was awake. Eventually she had to take a breath, or she would suffocate herself. Her breathing was slow and painfully controlled at first, but then became rapid and uneven. She could only pray he didn't notice.

Apparently he didn't, for a moment later he began to nibble delicately on her bottom lip. Sango's hands gripped her sheets tightly. She was using every bit of self-control that she had not to whimper with delight.

Abruptly Miroku bit down hard on her bottom lip, but instantly sucked on it to dull the pain. Sango was surprised that she hadn't made a noise, but she suspected that by now, she couldn't.

She wondered briefly why Miroku hadn't realized that surely, even if she _had _been asleep to begin with, she would be awake by now. No one could sleep through this. Every one of her senses was telling her to wrap her arms around him and never let him go, but still she kept herself still.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Miroku pulled away, and Sango felt cold without the heat of his mouth on hers. The knock repeated itself, and at the same time she heard the quiet click of the mirror closing.

When the knock repeated for a third time, Sango opened her eyes and sat up. "Come in."

The door opened just enough for Inuyasha to slip inside. "I just wanted to tell ya…uhhh…good-night, I guess. I didn't realize you were sleeping already. I'm sorry I woke you..." Inuyasha tried to avoid glancing at the mirror. Damn his sensitive ears!

Sango felt like throwing her book at Inuyasha in irritation. She forced herself to take a few deep breaths. It wasn't Inuyasha's fault…he didn't know what he had interrupted.

'_Or did he?' _Sango thought to herself, '_Father once told me that demons have extraordinary hearing. Maybe he heard Miroku slip in?'_

"It's okay, Inuyasha, I—" she was about to tell her friend that she wasn't really asleep anyway, but her eyes darted over to the mirror, not noticing Inuyasha do the same. "I probably would have gotten up anyway."

Inuyasha nodded. "'Night, Sango."

"'Night."

Inuyasha slipped back out of the door, and shut it behind him.

Sango sat in silence for a moment before speaking to the darkness. "Miroku?"

"I'm here, Sango."

Sango smiled inwardly. _Oh, she knew._

"I'm sorry I fell asleep…why didn't you wake me?"

There was an awkward silence. "I was late. I only just got here."

She felt like bursting out into laughter at his somewhat unbelievable excuse. Miroku was _never_ late.

"Are you ready to begin, then?"

"Of course."

The rest of the lesson went as it normally did, until the very end. Before Miroku could leave, Sango hesitated and then asked, "Miroku…about that dinner I had scheduled with Kuronosuke…"

There was a suddenly cold silence, and then, "Yes?"

"Well, I canceled it for tonight, as you know…but…"

"But?"

Sango was about to tell him, but then stopped. Obviously, he hadn't overheard their conversation. She was slightly surprised—she thought he heard everything—but pleased with her good fortune. She didn't have to tell him, and tomorrow night, this would all be over.

"What were you saying, Sango?"

"I just… felt guilty, that's all. I don't like lying to him." '…_Anymore than I like lying to you…'_

"That's all?"

"Yes."

"Don't worry about it, ma chérie; the Vicomte will get over it."

She nodded. "I suppose he will."

"Goodnight, ma chérie."

"Goodnight, Miroku."

Sango was relieved at finally having a normal day of practice. It helped get her mind off of that night. She was worried that Kuronosuke would tell someone…and for sure, Miroku would overhear. He wouldn't miss hearing about it twice.

After practice, Sango changed out of her ballet outfit and into a semi-nice dress. It was one of the better ones that she owned. She wanted to look nice for this outing, even if it wasn't really a date. Was it?

She glanced at the hour candle. It was almost time to go. Sango winced…why was it that when she was waiting for something, the waiting seemed to take an eternity, but when she was dreading something it went by in a blink?

What seemed like a few minutes later, there was a knock on her door. Sango quickly opened it, walking out passed Kuronosuke. She motioned for him to move quickly. Kuronosuke frowned at her odd behavior, but did as she wanted anyway.

Sango didn't stop to rest until they were at his carriage. Every bend she had been expecting to run into a furious Miroku. Now, however, she was beginning to hope that he would never find out about this.

Her hopes were in vain.

Miroku watched Sango and the Vicomte step into the carriage, eyes blazing. Now he knew what Sango had been going to say to him the night before… She _hadn't_ canceled her dinner with Kuronosuke after all…she had simply moved it to another night.

He gritted his teeth. How _dare_ she lie to him! He had trusted her, and she had betrayed him. Miroku closed his eyes and took a breath, attempting to control his rising temper. Sango must have had a reason for not telling him…

'_She damn well had a reason!' _His mind shot back angrily, '_She thinks she can get away with it! She tricked you into believing you could trust her so that she could escape! She doesn't love you…she never loved you! She thinks that she can deceive you twice.'_

His eyes now burned hotter than fire.

_He'd show her._

Miroku stalked down the passageways and left the Opera House through a side door, his cloak billowing behind him, and his hand clutched around the end of the Punjab lasso…


	24. Chapter 24

Penny: He's a vampire!

Christine: Is not!

Penny: Is too! I mean, the guy loves darkeness—

Christine: So?

Penny: Sleeps in a coffin—

Christine: They're comfy…

Penny: AND SEDUCES WOMEN!

Christine: ...I'm not…answering that…

Penny: Miroku's not training to be a phantom, peeps… he's training to be a vampire!

Christine: . . .

* * *

Sango looked around uneasily as they got out of the carriage. She felt as though she was being watched… and she didn't like that at all. Miroku wouldn't follow her here…would he? _'Yes, he would…'_

"Sango? What's wrong?" Kuronosuke asked concernedly, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. She pulled away, and then took a deep breath.

"Kuronosuke… maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. I… I want to go back."

"_What?_" Kuronosuke stared at her. "Sango, I brought you all of this way, and now we're going to have dinner! Come on, what's bothering you? You were never like this before!"

"What do you mean, before? From when I was a child? Kuronosuke, you hardly know me anymore—"

"That's the point of having dinner with you! I _want_ to get to know you again, Sango… and, well, I had thought that you wanted to get to know me better again. Was I really so wrong about you?"

Sango gave him a pained look. "Kuronosuke… there was a time when maybe this might have worked… but I…"

"You're not even giving me a _chance_." Kuronosuke interrupted, getting slightly angry now. "Please, sango… Just dinner tonight, and if you really don't want to see me again, I'll leave you alone. Fair?"

Sango bit her lip, and then nodded.

* * *

Cobalt eyes followed Kuronosuke as he led Sango into the diner. _Idiot boy… he'd pay for this!_

Miroku slipped into the diner a good while after them, keeping to the shadows. He got a few odd looks, but at least no one said anything. Making sure to stay as far out of the light as possible, Miroku moved so that he had a better look at their table.

Sango appeared uneasy, but Kuronosuke looked like he was having the time of his life. Turning his gaze away from the grinning Vicomte, Miroku focused on Sango. Her eyes flitted about in the corners of the room… almost as if she expected him to be there. He smiled slightly—good, she was starting to understand.

Miroku looked back at Kuronosuke, his grip tightening around the Punjab lasso. How easy it would be to rush in and snap the boy's neck! But then he imagined Sango's reaction, and he hesitantly put the Punjab away. No, this wasn't the time to kill off the Vicomte. He had let his anger control him too much.

Miroku took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He would let them go… at least for the night. When Sango got back, however, he would certainly have to talk to her about this… or maybe not. Maybe he would just let _her_ come to _him_…

* * *

Sango stepped out of the carriage and, without waiting for Kuronosuke to say goodbye, hurried up the stairs before the Opera House. _How angry was Miroku? Would he be able to understand?_

"Sango!" Kuronosuke cried after her, but she didn't even turn. He began up the steps, and then stopped. He _had_ promised her he'd let her go, hadn't he? Reluctantly, the Vicomte turned and began walking back down to his carriage. Without a backward look, he got inside and told the driver to take him home.

* * *

Sango waited for Miroku to come in her dressing room that evening, but he never did.

The next morning when she awoke to find that she was still alone, she began to worry. Was he _that_ angry at her? Did he never want to see her again? She debated going to him in his lair, but then decided against it. Perhaps he just needed some time to cool off…

Finally she decided that if he still hadn't come to visit her by the end of the week, she would have to seek him out. She was certain that he would talk to her by then…

The days passed slowly, and Miroku never appeared.

At the end of the week, they were going to have another performance. This time, however, since Kikyo was back, she was going to play the lead role. Sango had been given a smaller, less important role, but was still happy with it. It was more than she had ever had before, anyway. At least she wasn't back in the chorus!

The rehearsals went without a hitch, and the performance promised to be a good one, even if Kikyo had the lead.

Ginta and Hakkaku had never been happier… until they received the letter. Once again, it was from "O.G," and once again it was ordering them to give Sango the lead role.

"Ginta…" Hakkaku began hesitantly, "Maybe we should just give the girl the role… she _does_ have a good voice."

"And lose La Kikyo? She wouldn't put up with it…you _know_ she wouldn't! As soon as the girl got the role, she'd throw a temper tantrum and never come back. Is that what you want, moron?" Ginta retorted angrily.

"Well…no, I suppose not. But what about this _O.G._ person? Surely they're going to do something horrible if Youkaitashi doesn't get the role."

"We'll see about that. Personally, Hakkaku, I have a feeling that this 'disaster' is just an empty threat to get us to do what he wants."

"Maybe…" Hakkaku allowed, "But what if it isn't? What if this crazy guy is actually serious about it?"

Ginta looked as if he were about to say something, and then shrugged. "We'll just see what happens."

* * *

Sango changed into her new costume for the opera, glancing hesitantly at the mirror. She had debated on going to Miroku before the performance, but there was just no time. Promising herself that she would go to see him afterwards, she finished pinning up her hair and went to meet Kagome backstage.

* * *

Kuronosuke had sworn to himself that he wouldn't go back to the opera, but found that he couldn't resist. He needed to see her, just _one _more time! He knew by now that all of the seats would be sold out…

All but one.

* * *

Sango stood backstage with Kagome, fiddling absent-mindedly with her costume. Tonight's performance of _Il Muto_ promised to be a good one. Kikyo's voice was as ear-piercing as ever, of course, but not _quite_ as bad as usual. The ballerinas had worked especially hard on their dancing… it might not be perfect, but it was pretty close… and the chorus had been doing even better than they had been before!

So why was it Sango had such a bad feeling about tonight?

Sango tried to shake it off. Maybe it was just because she wouldn't be singing tonight… or perhaps because she hadn't seen Miroku in a week.

It was as f he had completely brushed her out of his mind…

_Miroku_… That was the reason, she was sure. He was, in essence if not in reality, her Angel of Music… how would she make it through tonight's performance without him?

'_Of course,' _she thought bitterly, _'It's not as though I'm actually going to be singing anything…'_ Sango had been given the part of the page boy—the silent role. She had a sneaking suspicion that Kikyo had something to do with that. Still, Sango reminded herself, at least she was in the performance at all!… She didn't know what would happen to her if she didn't have her job at the Opera House.

Kagome nudged her slightly, a worried look on her face. Sango realized that she had been so lost in her own thoughts that she had nearly missed the queue for her entrance. She gave Kagome a grateful look, got into character, and then walked onstage.

The first thing she noticed was Kuronosuke. He was seated in one of the boxes, which wasn't odd… but a warning rang at the back of Sango's head and she couldn't figure out why. She brushed it aside… this wasn't the time to dwell on it.

* * *

Kagome peeked out through the curtain, watching what was happening on stage. Tonight was running perfectly—it was probably the best performance of Il Muto they'd ever done. Kagome grinned as the audience laughed and clapped at something that was said onstage. The audience loved it…that was a good sign. The grin still plastered on her face, her gaze traveled upwards. Then, abruptly, the smile vanished.

_Was that the Vicomte in the ghost's box? Didn't he know that box five was reserved for the Phantom on opening night?_ Kagome had a feeling that it wouldn't end well…

As if on queue, a soft, deadly voice cut through the dialogue on stage. _"Did I not instruct that box five was to be kept empty?"_

Both the stage and the audience immediately quieted, holding their breath for what was to come next…

* * *

Sango's head snapped up at the sound of Miroku's voice. It was the first time she'd heard it in a week, and at first she was thrilled. _Miroku!_ "It's him… I know it, it's him!" she whispered, not even aware she was speaking.

"Your part ees silent, leettle toad!"

"A toad, Madame? Perhaps it is _you_ who is the toad!" Miroku's voice was scathing, brimming with barely controlled rage. Sango subconsciously took a step backwards at the anger in his voice. She recognized the tone he was using, and was immediately transported back to the night when she had removed his mask…

Except now…now there was no remorse mixed in with the anger. It was just pure, unmanageable rage. Sango fought with the temptation to run offstage and lock herself in her dressing room. _As if that would help…_

Her only condolence was that his anger was not at her this time. Sango's worried gaze traveled to Kikyo, who looked almost comical in her anger. _No_ one, Sango was sure, had ever called _her_ a toad before! Kikyo turned on Sango. "You! Back into position!" And then she went back to the beginning of the song that Miroku had interrupted.

She was brave, Sango thought, you had to give her that. She threw one last glance in the direction that Miroku's voice had come from, and then moved back into place. _Please Miroku, let it go. Ignore her._ For a few moments, Sango thought that he would.

Then Kikyo croaked.

In the literal sense, of course. She had been singing as normally as before when suddenly she let out a horrible rasping sound. There were several gasps from the audience. La Kikyo was well known and renowned, and never—_never_—had something like _this_ happened to her!

Kikyo, who was pale with shock and fright, took a deep breath and went back to the part where she had messed up. Sango stood frozen, watching her. Everyone was waiting to see if she could regain herself…

"She's singing to bring down the chandelier!" Miroku's voice rang from all directions, his normally beautiful tone now mocking and terrifying. Sango looked breathlessly up at the chandelier that hung above the seats. It was swaying dangerously, the crystals chinking slightly as they knocked together.

Kikyo kept singing, as if to defy him with her voice. She got louder as she went up the scale, nailing each of the high notes perfectly—

Then it happened again. The terrible croaking sound emitted from her mouth instead of the note she was supposed to hit. Kikyo cut off what she was singing again. She was crying now, and Sango actually felt bad for her. Several people in the audience were laughing, and she would have thought that the situation was funny too, had she not been a singer. She knew the consequences of messing up onstage before an audience. Kikyo was going to have to work hard to regain the prestige that she'd once had. For now… she was a laughing stock.

Sango's heart went out to the other woman as she ran off the stage, in tears. Dimly, she heard people talking loudly and above all, that terrible, beautiful voice laughing maniacally. One of the managers shouted something, and before she knew what was going on, Ginta pulled her center stage.

"We will continue shortly with Ms. Youkaitashi playing the part of countess." He said quickly, "Until then, we are proud to give you the ballet from act three!"

Sango was led dazedly offstage to change into her new costume as the ballet dancers rushed on, all frantically trying to get into position as the music started up.

She was almost to the changing room she was given when there was a terrible scream from onstage...

* * *

**A/N: Please review! puppy dog eyes  
**


	25. Chapter 25

_Sango was led dazedly offstage to change into her new costume as the ballet dancers rushed on, all frantically trying to get into position as the music started up._

_She was almost to the changing room she was given when there was a terrible scream from onstage..._

* * *

Suddenly, Sango found herself racing back to the arena. The ballet girls clung to each other in a mass of fright. Kagome mouthed quickly to Sango, 'look up'. Sango shook her head, unable to read Kagome's lips, for they were moving at a rapid pace. 

Finally, Kagome pointed a shaking forefinger upwards towards the ceiling. She bit hard on her lip as a way to keep from crying out in horror.

Sango slowly lifted her head and stumbled backwards in a mixture of both panic and fright. She held her hand out in back of her in order to break her fall. Sango opened her mouth to scream, but found that only silence came out.

There, hanging down from the catwalk, was Naraku. His neck was sufficiently dislocated. His head drooped in a sickening position that hung past his shoulder. Naraku was dangling in midair, held by a noose that was secured tightly around his neck. Then Naraku dropped to the stage in a loud _'thud' _and lay motionless, as he would forever.

Sango recoiled from the body and glanced back to Kagome. If it was possible, Kagome got even paler. The audience that had been enjoying themselves just moments before was leaping over one another and making for the exit. Their yelps of terror echoed throughout the opera.

Then, Sango felt a hand grab her arm.

* * *

She stiffened. Sango held her breath and sat there, having no desire to turn around. 

"Sango, it's me, Kurnonosuke." said the voice from behind her. Sango faced him and cried out for joy as she swung her arms around his neck. She was so relieved!

"Oh, Kuronosuke! I'm so happy it's you! I thought it might be…" but she quickly caught herself. Kuronosuke buried his face in her hair and gladly accepted her embrace. Then, he got up on one knee and offered a hand to Sango for assistance.

She accepted it without delay. "I'm frightened, Kuronosuke. Never in my wildest dreams had I expected this…" And suddenly, a cruel realization hit her, and it hit her hard. Sango looked up to Kuronosuke with worry showing clearly in her wide, hazel eyes. She twined her fingers with his and dragged him away from the stage and up the stairwell to the roof of the opera house.

"Sango, what are you doing?" Kuronosuke stopped her, taking hold of her arms.

"We can't go back there!" Sango pleaded, trying to break free of his grasp. "He'll _kill_ you!" Sango trembled underneath Kurnonosuke.

He slowly took his hand off of her and cupped her cheek. "Who will kill me—?

Sango's eyes widened at his affection, quickly reaching for his free hand and pushing open the door to the roof. "No one will find us here…" But Sango severely doubted it as she looked around frantically in all directions. She circled _most_ of the statues of angels and peeked behind herself every few seconds. Kuronosuke walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"Sango, what's going on?" He whispered softly in her ear. "You have been worrying me a lot these past few days. _Please_," he stressed, "tell me what's going on."

Sango slumped further into him, but some part of her mind felt it was wrong. "Kuronosuke," she murmured, "my Angel—"

"Sango! Do you think this is really the time to talk about that?" His voice was flavored with jealously and annoyance.

Sango shook her head at him. "No, Kuronosuke, you don't understand. The Angel I was telling you about," Sango felt her eyes and nose start to burn, as a single tear dripped down the side of her left cheek, "he's not an Angel _at all_!"

Kuronosuke blinked and went to stand in front of her. "Sango?"

Sango obscured her face in her hands, unable to look at him, "He's not an Angel! He's the Phantom of the Opera. I've been seeing Miroku!" And she fell to her knees.

Kuronosuke bent down beside her. "You've been _seeing_ him?" he asked is hurt disbelief.

Sango sobbed and looked down at the snow-covered ground, "He's only my tutor, Kuro-chan. Don't take it the wrong way…" Sango, for the first time, wasn't aware of what she had just said.

Kuronosuke drew her to him and sat her in his lap. "Sango, don't be afraid."

Sango broke down in hysterics, "He hunts to kill!And his anger!_ Oh, his anger!_" Suddenly, everything Miroku and her had worked for seemed to be unraveling with the realization that Miroku was a murderer, and a darn swift one at that.

"Sango, Sango…" Kuronosuke chanted helplessly. He couldn't bear to see Sango in such a state.

"_Sango…"_

Sango's head jerked up, "What was that?" she whispered. Kuronosuke watched the color drain from her pretty face.

He kissed her lightly on the forehead. "Perhaps you and I can stay with each other tonight; would that give you a sense of comfort?"

Sango went silent. She was so confused. How come being with Kuronosuke felt so…_sinful?_

"I…I can't…" Sango finally said, squeezing his hand.

"Sango! Your so called 'teacher' is not safe to be around!"

Sango sighed deeply, "I can't explain why but his voice makes me feel things…things I've never thought I could feel. And for those moments, when he sings…I almost forget about his darkness…about his face…"

Kuronosuke was gradually becoming irritated with Sango. One moment, she was deathly afraid of this man, the next— she seemed longing to return to him. This was not emotion that a student gives to her teacher…this was love of the most powerful kind.

"No more talk of darkness, forget these wide eyed fears…" Kuronosuke started singing to her. Sango seemed to calm down by the romantic vows in his song, letting her thoughts of Miroku slip away with Kuronosuke's words.

After all, Miroku and her just weren't meant to be… tonight clearly proved that.

A light snow began to fall, gently landing in the couple's hair. Sango shivered with tiny bumps of gooseflesh. Kuronosuke gave her a small smile and pulled her to his chest protectively. Sango inhaled the masculine scent of his body and blushed into his warmth.

"Say you want me with you, now and always…" Sango said softly, grabbing onto his shirt. "Say you love me…"

"You know I do…" He smiled, taking a strand of her hair and letting it gently slip through his fingers.

Sango felt awfully flushed.

"Love me, that's all I ask of you…" Kuronosuke took Sango's chin between his thumb and forefinger and boldly went down to kiss her. Sango was only shocked for a second, but then found herself responding. She draped her arms lovingly around his neck and drew Kuronosuke into her. It was an innocent yet memorable kiss.

After awhile, their lips parted and Sango brightened. "So that's what I've been missing!" She laughed, watching Kuronosuke smirk.

"Yes well, I _have_ kissed a lot of woman…"

"Oh, _shut up!_"She giggled, playfully slapping him on the shoulder. "Let's get away from all this commotion, Kuronosuke. Order your fine horses, be with them at the door—"

"And soon, you'll be beside me…" He gleefully took her hands and led her towards the stairwell.

"You'll guard me and you'll guide me…"

The door clicked shut and they were gone

* * *

Kirara pranced out from under the statue of Apollo and scratched herself behind her ear. Then she gazed up curiously and purred, "Mew?" 

Miroku stepped out of the place of which had had been lingering and returned Kirara's gaze. Seeing that his eyes held great sadness, Kirara got up onto all fours, and rubbed her back against Miroku's legs. She then proceeded to hop up onto his shoulder, where Kirara remained there until Miroku absent-mindedly stroked the feline's head.

Miroku walked over to the edge of the roof and stared out onto the Parisian streets. There he watched a happy pair go walking in the night. They had a sort of glow around them. It almost looked like heaven's light…

(**A/N**: I couldn't resist! Quasimodo…)

But Miroku—with such a hideous face as the one he possessed—was not meant for heaven's light. He was a demon, and Hell was where he belonged.

But then, an Angel smiled at him. Sure, Sango had thought the opposite, but that wasn't the case. He had showed her what love could feel like, and then, at the worst possible moment, she ripped it away!

_How cruel was she?_

"I gave you my music, made your song take wing…and now, how you repay me, deny me and betray me?" Miroku whispered under his breath. He continued to look at the couple, wretchedly, as they shared a lover's kiss.

"He was bound to love you…when he heard you sing…" Miroku decided to let the tears fall freely, "_Sango…! Sango…!_" He cried. Kirara whined in pity, brushing her face against his mask.

However, Miroku soon found his tears turning cold, not because of the temperature, but because of his rising hate. He clutched his fist to his sides in a wash of fury, and screamed out, so that all of Paris could hear, "**You will curse the day you did not do…all that the Phantom asked of…you!**"

Then, with a final swish of his cape, Miroku withdrew into the darkness.

* * *

**A/N**: I hated writing this chapter, just so you all know. And for all of you who wanted me to type out 'All I Ask of You,' I'm sorry; I just picked out _some_ parts. I would have loved that song…if it was shared between the right couple! I'm sorry this chapter wasn't as long as some of the others…but **please— review!**


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N**: (Yes, it's a long one)

Let's brush up on some facts, my dears…you might find this interesting and educational in the chapters to come!

The basic plotline of Don Juan is one of the most famous plotlines in opera. Just about every version of Don Juan (Spanish name) or Don Giovanni (Italian name) has this basic plotline.

The title character is an infamous lothario and ladies' man who seduces just about every woman left and right through Europe. (sounds familiar, no?) Then he meets this young woman who is engaged and he goes to seduce her through some disguises and deception since he's got such a reputation. Around the same time, some of the people whose lives he's destroyed with his acts of seduction gang up on him to give him his final comeuppance.

In the case of Don Giovanni, Don Giovanni had killed a man in a duel because the man was defending his daughter's honor after Don Giovanni tried to seduce her. In the end, our title character goes to Hell for his wickedness.

The funny thing about Don Juan in POTO is that it's a heavy "theme" in the musical. In the novel, Erik screamed at Christine at how he's Don Juan. This is meant to be sarcastic since, as I said, Don Juan is such a successful seducer and our poor Phantom, or Miroku, whichever you prefer, is so hideous. For Andrew Lloyd Weber to use the Don Juan Triumphant of the novel into the musical just extends the metaphor further by having the two ironies of this character for the story. Not only is it expanding on the ugly Phantom as the seductive figure, but it does take advantage of the fact that Don Juan uses tricks to get his "prey." Of course for Don Juan Triumphant/Point of No Return scene, the character uses a disguise to seduce Aminta/Christine/Sango.

How do I know this? I have way too much time on my hands…Thus; this concludes my author's note.

* * *

Sango awoke the next morning to find a beautiful bouquet of flowers on top of her bedside dresser. She positioned herself upright in the bed and reached over to pick the card out of the arrangement. There was no point in checking for who they were from. The parchment clearly smelled of Kuronosuke. Sango opened the envelope with a half-smile.

True, last night had been both terrifying and sensational. Now that Sango was calm enough to think things, why _had_ she been so eager to fall into Kuronosuke's arms? She sighed and turned her gaze to Kirara. She was sitting at the foot of the bed, giving Sango a look that made her squirm uncomfortably underneath her covers. "What's wrong, girl?" Sango asked as she went to reach out and pet Kirara's head. But the cat hissed at her and leapt onto the floor. She strode over to the door, where she stretched for a moment and brushed her claws against the carpet. Kirara then resumed her glare from the other side of the room.

Sango blinked in shock at Kirara's sudden lack of affection. "You're _angry_ with me?" She watched as Kirara bent her head towards the floor and opened her mouth to yawn. If felines could talk, Sango could just imagine what she'd have to say— _Humph, what a dense owner I have! Surely you must know what is bothering me?_

"Kirara, you don't honestly think that I should _stay _with Miroku?" Sango blushed, feeling awfully idiotic that she was talking to a cat. "Did you not see what he is capable of _doing_? I was only concerned for Kuronosuke because he is my friend!"

_Liar… _Kirara's tail swayed side to side in a hypnotic motion.

"He's _killed_ a man! An innocent man!" Sango shouted, bringing the pillow to her face and shaking her head into it.

The cat remained unflinching. Her eyes flashed. _So Miroku is a murderer, what of it? Sango, you knew yourself that he had tendencies… _

Suddenly Sango remembered the noose. So she hadn't been imagining things! And the torture room, who really had a _torture room _in their_ house_? But yet, none of this seemed odd to Sango (at the time). None of it urked her. Sango still came to Miroku like a moth attracted to a flicking flame.

_Last night…you wanted Miroku to be the one confessing his love to you— not that other boy_! Kirara seemed to be grinning, and Sango began to wonder if she was becoming mad herself. _You see, Sango, Miroku is just as much of a cat as I. He doesn't trust easily and you have to try hard to win his affection… Or else…he won't come out of hiding... Dogs…dogs on the other hand, _Kirara produced somewhat of a hiss, _dogs are fools who will come to anyone who calls their name!_

"This is crazy…" Sango whispered, ripping her gaze from the pet. "You're just a cat, and I'm just thinking up these things…but, _why am I_?"

_Perhaps you have succumbed to that boy's charm because you think it is the logical thing to do?_

"Well…I…Kirara! Just…just go away!" Sango cried, throwing a cushion at her.

Kirara jumped back a foot._ Since when have we ever been logical?_ she 'continued'._ And look, we're just fine how we are! Sango, aren't you glad you have my affection? Look at the relationship we've earned. _Kirara galloped over to the mirror. She swept at it until it opened a small breech, just big enough for her body to wiggle through. _Just imagine how much better it will be when Master Miroku's nibbling at your neck… _Then Kirara trotted off into the dark passageways of the labyrinth

Sango gaped, and decided it would be good for her to go back to sleep. She was now having fears of losing her own sanity...

* * *

"Don…Juan…Triumph- what do you _want_?" Miroku stubbornly slammed his quill back into the inkwell. "You know better than anyone…do not disturb me during my music! Why, I have worked six days at a time without any interruptions!"

"Believe me, idiot, this is worth the interruption!" Inuyasha growled as he watched Miroku proceed to write…_whatever_ he was writing. It was sloppy, childish-looking, but professionally done. Inuyasha stomped over to it and shuffled the stack into his hands. Not a good move, for Miroku was now giving him murderous glares. Now, a murderous glare doesn't necessarily mean that a glare is _murderous_, but with Miroku…

"Just hear me out and you'll get these back!"

Miroku responded with a reluctant nod.

"I thought you left all this messy business back at the palace! You can't tell me that you've enjoyed working with Sesshomaru's torture chamber!" Inuyasha glanced down at the papers. They seemed to help him collect his thoughts. "What are these, anyway?"

"Simple, they're—"

Inuyasha snarled. "Don't change the subject, Miroku!" he snapped, watching his comrade get slightly taken aback by the dog's uncharacterized coldness.

"But it was _you_ who asked _me _about—"

The hanyou cut him off for a second time. "Why Naraku? Yeah, we all hate him but still…why? Do you know of the chaos you've caused? Are you aware of the impact you've had on Paris and the newspapers?

"No, I wasn't aware…" Miroku said devilishly, suppressing a grin.

"I'm surprised the police haven't hunted you down!"

Miroku fiddled with the black ribbon in between his fingers. It had been tenderly tied around the stem of a single blood-red rose. Miroku had planned on giving it to Sango, as he usually did. He still desired to hold a grudge with her, but found it slowly becoming more and more difficult

_It was not Sango's fault, I do not blame her. None of us choose where we will love. No, I can't blame her. I blame the boy…Kuronouske… for stealing her heart._

"Miroku! Are you listening to me?" Inuyasha's annoying voice snapped him back into reality. "Why did you do it? What have you proved?"

"The man was a perverted drunk. His fate was rightfully met by the Punjab lasso." Miroku sighed deeply, plucking a petal from the rose and carelessly tossing it to the ground. "He really shouldn't have made a habit of peeking in on the girl's dressing room, or staring a Sango while she was changing, for that matter. Of course, you wouldn't understand, would you Inuyasha?" He turned on him, "You must have managed to catch a glimpse of the lovely Miss Higarashi? She must have a fine body…"

Inuyasha opened his mouth to say something but found that nothing came out. Miroku smirked and plucked another petal. "Well, you'll be happy to know that I did not kill Monsieur Naraku. I told him quite politely not to be playing on the catwalk, and what did he do? He defied me and like the fool he was, he got caught in the ropes. I merely tried pulling him up by a rope that I had securely most lovingly around his neck. He had to be safe, Inuyasha." Miroku gave a half-hearted laugh, "I suppose I pulled my rope too tight. A severe oops on my part. The fault was entirely mine." Miroku placed the rose on his desk and said, "Once his neck snapped, there was nothing more I could do. I just…let him fly…"

Inuyasha eyes widened. "You mean dangle! You let him _dangle_!"

"Oh sorry, I forgot about that part. Yes, I let him dangle, but just for a bit. Then I let him fly. However, his landing was rather distasteful. Poor Sango. The child almost got crushed. Now we know Naraku was never meant to be a bird…"

"Cut the sarcastic crap, Miroku! You're not funny!"

Miroku put a hand over his heart, "Inuyasha, this is entirely the truth. There is nothing comical about it! Would I— your dearest friend—lie to you? I think not! Ahh, Kirara! You have returned!" Miroku outstretched his arms slightly and waited patiently for Kirara to stride near him. She came with wonderful obedience and rested herself on his lap without protest. Kirara's furry black ears perked up as she listened to Inuyasha's booming voice.

_Master Miroku, how much longer must we tolerate this Inuyasha…?_

Inuyasha clutched the papers to his chest, needing to ask one final question. "So if you killed Naraku for being a peeping tom, why am I still here? I guess I'm one too."

Miroku scratched Kirara underneath her chin,"The answer is quite obvious, is it not? You were not staring at Sango. What happens between Kagome and yourself is your business, not mine. Besides, Naraku also spread some nasty rumors about myself. Inuyasha, you know how I detest rumors…especially when they're true. Yet, the man just didn't shut up about it. Not when Madame Kaede told him to, not when you told him to…but then again, no one really listens to you, do they?" Inuyasha remained silent, and when he did, Miroku prattled on. "He just couldn't listen to the warnings, so he had to be punished."

"By _killing_ him? Couldn't you do something else?" Inuyasha stuttered.

"His death was a lot kinder than me just throwing him in the torture chamber—oh Inuyasha, don't give me that look. You know I have one down here. Care to venture and find it? It will be such deadly entertainment. Go on, go! Try to find it!"

"You're sick!"

"I do have a tiny cold…" Miroku laughed and the cat purred.

"How do you plan to get Sango back when you're acting like this? You're acting like a madman! I don't know, Miroku, but girls these days aren't into the murdering type…or at least, that's what I've heard!" Inuyasha sat down on the floor and crossed his legs Indian-style.

"If you would just give me those papers, I could tell you! You'll find out in 6 months, at the Opera's masked ball. Oh, that reminds me…could you get my costume? I'm going to be ridiculously busy and I don't think I can get it myself."

"Mew!"

"Don't you worry, my girl, I always have enough time for you!" Miroku heard Inuyasha snort and then ask what the costume was that he wanted. "You don't know me at all, do you?" Miroku quickly wrote the name down on a scrap piece of yellow parchment paper and then handed it to his friend.

"As if I can read this!" Inuyasha spat, squinting in order to make out the crimson-colored words.

"I'll be going as Red Death. And you must tell Sango to go as the black domino. Is that understood?"

"I'm not telling her! I'll snag this 'Red Death' costume for you, but you'll be telling Sango about this yourself!" Inuyasha's amber eyes suddenly narrowed into slits. "You bastard. You make me feel all guilty for staring at Kagome. But then, how would you know that unless you were staring at someone too? Maybe you should have _yourself _hanged."

"Inuyasha…you _are_ an idiot. Are you so quick in forgetting that I have many trap doors, see many different things and know everything that happens in my opera house the moment it occurs? Now get up, find some of that blasted ramen you care so much about and _get out of my house_!"

Kirara winced.

Inuyasha did the same. He quickly returned Don Juan Triumphant to Miroku and fled.

"Dogs…I much more prefer cats…" Miroku muttered, running his fingers over Kirara's head and resuming his previous state. He dipped his quill in the ink and continued.

"Aminta…the beautiful gypsy girl…" Miroku smiled to himself, this part was indeed going to satisfy him.

* * *

"Kagome…I'm scared. What if the Opera Ghost kills me next?" Sango looked at Shippou, and then to Kagome. What was she going to say?

"Shippou…ehh…the Opera Ghost only punishes the bad, evil boys and girls…and…and…he always leaves presents for the good ones!" She returned Sango's gaze and shrugged helplessly. "Isn't that right Sango?"

"Oh, yes! Yes it is!" Sango put on a happy smile for the kitsune, meeting her fingers together at the tips and jumping up and down lightly.

"Like Santa Claus?" Shippou asked innocently.

"Exactly like Santa Claus!" replied the girls in unison.

"Only…a bit more _intense_." Added Sango, "Wouldn't you say, Kagome?"

"Couldn't have said it better myself! Now turn around while I help you put on your corset." Shippou took that as his queue to leave. Kagome shut the door and stood in back of Sango. She gently swept Sango's hair over her shoulders. She positioned the clothing over Sango's already perfect hour-glass figure and began to lace it up. Kagome frowned and whispered more to herself than Sango, "you're gorgeous, do you know that?"

"Kagome, quit being so flattering… You're just as pretty as I am, if not prettier." Sango blushed, grateful that her back was turned.

"Stop being so modest!" Kagome laughed a bit sadly. The corset was beginning to pinch in Sango's waist and raise her breast to healthy heights. Perfection was an understatement. "No wonder he's gone mad for you…"

"What do you…?" Sango tried to turn her head and look at Kagome over her shoulder, but Kagome pulled tighter on the laces of the corset and gently commanded Sango to stay facing the mirror.

"Kuronosuke loves me for more than just my looks! …Kagome, not so…you're suffocating me!"

"Sorry…" Kagome sighed, loosening the contraption for comfort. "Who ever said we were talking about Kuronosuke, Sango?"

"Who else would we be talking…?" Sango bit her lip, "Not you too!"

"Listen to me for a sec. I'm not saying that being with Miroku is the smart thing to do, nor is it safe, but Sango, I saw you with Kuronosuke last night, and it seemed to me that you acted…well, you acted as if you were in love . But that's just it, Sango. You were _acting_." Kagome began finishing up the laces, "now I can't say I've seen you with Miroku, because I haven't, but you sure made a complete turn around last night. It all seemed a little unreal... There, you're good to go!" Kagome let her hands fall to her sides and Sango went to select a gown to wear.

"I know, I know! But Kagome, how am I supposed to react to this? Kuronosuke's so charming and he makes me feel like that happy little girl who used to spend her days singing songs and running through sand. Miroku's so completely different. He makes me want to _do_ things, Kagome! Things I thought I would never think about! It's _not like me!_"

"So there's seduction going on in this relationship, huh?" Kagome raised an eyebrow as Sango came out from behind the changing curtain.

Sango sat over on the sofa, deciding to let all her thoughts spill out. "Then, I've got part of my mind telling me— hey Sango, what's to say that you won't wake up one day to find that Miroku has completely turned on you? What's to say he won't _kill_ you like he did the others?"

"Others?"

"Oh, Kagome, there _will be _others! I don't doubt that!" Sango pointed out.

"I think Miroku loves you too much for him to kill—"

"And…and to live in a cellar? It's cold and dark…I hate the dark! It terrifies me. You never know what could be crawling over your body while you're sleeping!"

"Sango, maybe you should just go to the guy and figure things out for yourself? You're obviously so confused right now, I think it might lead to brain damage! I just don't want you rushing into things with Kuronosuke if that's not where your heart lies." Kagome placed a finger to her lips in interest. "But could you answer me just one question?"

"I'd have to know what that question is." Sango replied, cupping both cheeks in her hands.

"Why does he wear I mask? I'd assume it's because of some deformity, if you're with him out of pity, than maybe Kuronosuke _is_ the best choice. I mean, no one really wants to be pitied and deceived into thinking their other half loves them—"

"He is deformed…and it's not pity." Sango said bluntly. Just how deformed Miroku was…well, she decided to leave that part out.

'_They all seem so eager for Miroku and I to love each other, and it's not normal…far from it. But, I really can't complain. I'm just having so many completely different thoughts…all at once. I never liked Naraku, yet he shouldn't have been killed. I'm scared of Miroku, yet I want to be with him. Kuronosuke's so loving and caring, but Miroku is as well… stop it, Sango! Stop it! You're thinking way too much! As if Kirara lecturing me wasn't enough!'_

"Kagome, I'll see him. But…but you must distract Kuronosuke! Tell him I went to my friend's house, make it sound believable. Stress it if you must. Just don't let him know about Miroku. Who knows what will happen if you do!" Sango watched Kagome nod, quickly did her hair, applied a light touch of make-up and rammed into Shippou on the way out the door.

"Why's she in such a rush for?"

* * *

Sango studied the stage. She was trying to remember exactly how she had gotten back to the opera house. It was through one of Miroku's trap doors. She saw an opening in the center stage and hurried to lift the top up. God, it was dark down there…leading to god knows where. Sango could very well be plummeting to her death and not know it.

But she leapt anyway.

* * *

**A/N**: Kirara is just a regular cat in this story. She's not a demon; she can't talk…she just serves as a friend and conscious to Sango. Sorry it took longer than usual to update. I've been sick. I still am. 


	27. Chapter 27

Sango rolled over on her side and groaned. The laws of physics said that she should've been dead, if not dying. The term cat-like reflexes didn't apply to her. Her corset had now shifted into an uncomfortable position that dug into her rib cage and made her tear up in one eye. Her father had once offered Sango the option of surgery to get the last rib bone removed. Ladies often did that when they wore corsets on an everyday basis. It took away some of the discomfort when something like this occurred. But Sango gratefully declined her father's offer. The medical technology was not very advanced, recovery would take forever, and quite frankly, Sango was almost certain she would die in the procedure. Now, however, perhaps she should've taken the money and went. Damn corsets, unnecessary, painful things! Suffer to be beautiful— it never could be truer.

After some of the pain eased, Sango slowly sat up and stared into the passageway. She shuddered with the overwhelming feeling that she was alone. Usually Miroku had been beside her, but now he knew nothing of her whereabouts. She leaned over on her hands and knees to regain her balance. After getting back on her feet, Sango wobbled from side to side before realizing that her left leg had fallen asleep. Sango gasped sharply and she fell backwards and slammed her tail-bone into the ground. Sango chewed hard on the side of her mouth to keep from bursting out into tears. Her limp was now tingling with pins and needles. Sango stretched it out in front of her and gently shook it, trying to wake her leg up.

It was going back to normal. Sango sighed in relief, but decided not to get up again. Instead, she went to feel around and crawl. She groped out for things like stones and rocks. Sango didn't want to blindly fall over into some ditch and die…or some lake and drown, for that matter. Believe it or not, with every time Sango had been to the beach, she never learned how to swim. Sango laughed to herself and found it eerie the moment she did so. Her voice had now echoed off the walls and found its way back to her ears. Once again, Sango didn't take well to the fact that she was by herself.

Sango crawled cautiously through the darkness for what seemed like ages. Her hands were pressed against the cool floor intently. Sango looked past her shoulder every few seconds just to make sure that no one was coming up behind her. Then she heard something and jumped. Sango stood up quickly and turned her head around frantically. Sango walked aimlessly towards the noise until she giggled at the realization of what was making the sound.

"Caesar! I should've known it was you!" Sango ran to the black horse that Miroku had kept down there for his use. He clopped his front right hoof against the ground and bowed his head to her. Sango smiled and took his head in her hands. Caesar gazed up at Sango and gently nuzzled her cheek.

"Can you help me along, here? I don't know where I'm going at all!" She asked softly, stroking his black-silk forehead while she did so. The horse whinnied and nodded his head. "Thank you, boy!" Sango, forgetting to act like a lady, swung one leg over Caesar and straddled him (usually a young woman has both of her legs on one side of the horse). Caesar walked onward with command.

He took her as far as he could go before stopping and looking to Sango. She understood and got down off of him. Sango then rubbed Caesar's ear as payment for his services, and he trotted back to his 'home', a very chipper horse.

So Sango began walking again. Abruptly, the wall that she had been feeling ended, and Sango continued until she stepped in something freezing cold and wet. For a moment she stood still, confused, until she realized she had forgotten something very, very important while traveling on horseback.

"The lake…" she whispered, wanting to smack herself. "How am I going to get across the lake?" Last time there was a boat, but that would be on the opposite shore by now.

Sango paced, wondering what to do. It was times like these that she wished she had learned how to swim.

After a moment, she realized that she had two options. Sango could either make her way back to her room, or she could do something she considered utterly desperate.

Sango stood in silence once more. She knew that she couldn't go back, not when she had gotten this far…

She took a deep breath, and then shouted his name as loud as she could across the lake, hoping he could hear her.

* * *

Kirara suddenly began sniffing the air. Her ears were alert and Miroku looked up from his work to ask what was wrong. She showed no sign of telling him. Kirara swiftly pranced off the table and onto the bank of Miroku's house by the lake. Miroku began to get frustrated and decided he might as well follow her. Kirara never acted like this.

* * *

Sango opened her mouth to try again, but a cool hand clasped over it. 

"Hush, my dear, you'll harm your voice."

Sango stiffened for a moment, then recognized the voice and relaxed. "Miroku."

There was a moment's pause, and then he spoke again. "Why did you come here, Sango?" His voice was soft yet demanding.

Sango turned to face him, "Because, I want to know… I want to know…" she stuttered, "…_Why_, Miroku? Why did you do it?"

Miroku just stared at her for a moment, one hand twirling one of her soft brown curls. She could see his cobalt eyes glittering in the darkness.

"Miroku…"

"I lost my temper."

"You _lost your temper_!" Sango suddenly shouted, "Miroku, you _killed _someone! Losing your temper isn't an excuse!"

Miroku paused, and then shrugged.

Sango stared at him incredulously. "You mean you wouldn't have cared if someone else had died?" she drew back from him. "What if that someone had been me? Would you have cared then? I mean, you practically dropped Naraku's body on my head! Do you even _care_ about me?"

_Well, of course he cares! _Kirara sat in between the two. She seemed to be deciding who to go to. She stayed where she was.

Miroku's eyes widened slightly at Sango's words. "Sango, I-"

"Well just imagine that the person who died had someone who loved them, they'd probably feel suicidal!"

There was a long silence, and Sango blushed. Her words echoed back to her… _"…someone who loved them…"_

Her blush grew deeper. She sounded as if she had just assumed that Miroku loved her… but then, that's why she was confused about things, wasn't it?

"I…I mean…" Sango's face was growing warmer by the second, "Miroku…please, _please_ don't try to kill anyone again! Promise me…"

Miroku moved closer to her, and then hesitantly placed a hand under her chin, lifting her face up to his. "Sango… Do you love me?"

Sango froze, staring at him. That was awfully…specific…random…_sudden. _If he were to ask her that those three months ago, Sango would've answered it without question. But now…with all that had been happening...

Without even realizing she did it, her arms flew up around his neck, and she buried her face in his chest. "Oh, Miroku… don't ask me that now…" Sango squeaked out. "Not now… not when I'm so confused."

His hand stroked her hair as he stared off into the darkness, thinking. He was jerked back into reality at the sound of Sango's voice.

"But Miroku?"

"Yes, Sango."

"Please… _please_ promise me."

He held her tightly to him. "I promise, Sango… I promise…"

* * *

Before long, Sango noticed that they were in the gondola. She sat in back of Miroku silently; Kirara sat lightly on her lap. Miroku reached over to his side and grasped the long gondola poll in his hands. He pushed it back and forth so that the water lapped over it. Sango watched as Miroku stirred. He made it look so easy. 

"You seem quite skilled with this. I trust you would never tip the boat over? I can't really swim …" Sango muttered the last part. She might as well make conversation.

Miroku simply smiled. Although, since Sango was seated in back of him, she wouldn't have known that.

Sango's eyes finally noticed that she could see Miroku's chest through a soaked-through white shirt. Her hazel eyes widened. "You're all wet…"

"It is Kirara's doing. She knocked me into the lake as soon as she realized that you were down here. I had to first swim and get the gondola before I could get you."

"Oh…" Sango sounded disappointed by this. "You…you didn't hear me calling you?"

Miroku paused briefly and stopped moving the pole. "Sango, don't sound so melancholy. I was caught up in a project of mine…I would've have heard you if you were La Kikyo herself." And he started his duties again.

Sango sighed to herself and then concentrated again on Miroku's shirt. She drew in her breath as she saw his graceful but masculine muscles expanding and contracting with every breath he took. Miroku took note of this and his breathing seemed to be increasingly speeding up as Sango's eyes raked his body. Miroku felt himself growing nervous. …Finally, he saw the shore! Thank goodness for the shore! He was the first to get out. Miroku then lifted Sango up bridal style and placed her feet back on the ground. Sango thanked him shyly. Miroku nodded and twirled his soaking cloak to the ground. Oh, how she loved that cloak twirl. It was enough to make a girl go weak in the knees.

Miroku went over to his desk. "So now that you've gotten all of your information," he picked up the rose whose petals he had plucked, "what do you plan to do with me now?" He walked over to her side and rested the flower in her hands. "Surely Kuronosuke must be wondering where you are?"

Sango looked at the rose, then back to him. "Kuronosuke doesn't know that I am gone."

Miroku laughed cruelly. "What a way to keep track of his woman!"

"I'm not his—"

"You accepted his kiss, did you not? On the roof if the Opera House. Personally, I thought it was a rather disgusting display, but to others— it must have been a romantic event!" Miroku mentally cursed himself. He had promised that he wouldn't be angry with her. He stalked over to the sofa and sat angrily on it as if he were a little boy who had just been given a time out.

Sango blinked. "You…you saw that?"

"Don't act so surprised."

Sango quickly fled to him and collapsed on the couch. He didn't look at her and she frown. Sango gazed down at her dress and replied, "I'm sorry."

"There is nothing to be sorry about."

'_Then why do I feel so guilty?'_ Sango thought to herself.

Miroku studied her troubled expression and softened. Kuronosuke…it was Kuronosuke he was angry with! Miroku dung his fingers into the seat and hoisted himself up. He took a couple steps forward before turning to Sango and addressing her. "See that trunk over there? I want you to get it for me." He pointed his finger to a large ebony case that was tucked underneath his organ bench.

Sango immediately stood up, walked over and bent down in front of the box. There were two small, silver locks which she pressed on firmly with her fingertips. Sango heard something snap and suddenly she was able to swing the lid open. Inside there was a variety of ball-gown costumes. They were folded carefully as not to wrinkle the delicate fabric. Sango's breath caught in her throat. They were absolutely beautiful!

"You may try one on if you'd like." Miroku insisted, standing in back of her and eyeing a black dress in particular. Sango picked that one up, admiring it.

"That one is meant to be worn if you were doing to a costume party as the black domino… Sango, do you know that there is to be a masque ball in 6 months?"

Sango replied, "Yes, I had heard from the managers…they're a bit nervous about it." She then regretted saying that last part. Sango didn't want Miroku to inquire why, but he asked no further questions on the matter.

"I want you to go in that."

Sango looked at it and blushed. "It's black…" Sango realized that she'd have to elaborate more, for Miroku had a look of confusion in his eyes. "It's just not something I would wear. Black is a color of seduction and I… well its frown upon in my religion and—"

"Black is the color of music, Sango." Miroku laughed lightly. "My dear, you are everything that defines the word 'innocent'."

Sango somehow felt offended by that. Did she really appear that childish to him?

"Sango, if you don't feel comfortable with that dress, please, feel free to pick out another. I made all of them myself."

Sango gasped. She hadn't known Miroku was so artistic too! Miroku lifted the trunk and carried it into Sango's bedroom without effort. This gave her time to fully appreciate Miroku's drawing room. She noticed the art studio for the first time. Sango, flabbergasted, stumbled over her own feet and was caught by the fast agility of a suddenly appearing Miroku. She had never seen so much artwork of her in her life! It was flattering, yet slightly creepy…

"I put the costumes in your room." Miroku said, helping her stand. "Do you like them?"

Sango seemed to be in a daze. She stood in silence for a moment before finally figuring out what Miroku was asking about. "You're truly talented Miroku. Surely I'm not as beautiful as you make me appear to be." She quickly brushed past him and shyly made her way to her room.

"Sango, you are a seraph…"

Sango gave him a sweet smile and leaned her head on the mahogany door. "Do you work all day just to come up with these lovely compliments you give me?"

"It's my job." Miroku answered bashfully, staring down at his feet.

"Then don't ever retire from it…" Sango winked and closed the door, satisfied with the newfound expression on Miroku's face.

* * *

Sango searched through the dresses before coming to a package that was buried at the bottom. It was wrapped up in old, faded newspaper and tied with a thin black ribbon, similar to the ones on her roses. Sango carefully withdrew it from the trunk and began to untie the bow. Curiosity had once again won the battle in her mind. Sango drew back the paper and was stunned. There, before her eyes, was the most extravagant dress she had ever seen. Without thinking, Sango hurried to try it on and stood in front of a body-length mirror. She took the drape off of it and looked at herself in the glass. 

The dress was white, made of satin and lace. It fitted Sango perfectly, just as though it had been tailored to her very measurements. The dress spread out around her like the delicate petals of a flower. It flowed gracefully behind Sango like a rippling stream of fine fabric. Miroku had exquisite taste and a wonderfully acute eye for detail. Sango wondered how many designs he had discarded before deciding on this particular gown. Perfection, always perfection . . . anything less would be considered worthless in Miroku's mind.

Sango returned to the drawing room in glee. She carefully closed the door, not wanting to disturb Miroku, for he had returned to his organ bench and was now furiously scribbling away at something that Sango thought was a new score. Hearing the soft click of the lock, Miroku turned slowly and stared at Sango. The piece that he'd been working on slid from his grasp and dispersed itself in loose sheets across the floor. Sango felt herself twitch as she saw the little color that Miroku possessed, drain from the visible part of his face. She then had the strong feeling that maybe she was not meant to _be_ in this gown. Sango tried to head for the door in a feeble escape from the unbearable silence, but Miroku's voice made her freeze in mid-step.

"What are you doing in that?" Miroku was barely audible yet quite _demanding_.

Sango shuddered and replied hastily, "I…you…you said I had permission to try on any dress in the trunk. Am I incorrect? Miroku, I'll just change—"

"No. No, you are right. I did tell you that you can try on any clothing desired." He stood without word and ascended towards her. "Sango, what costume do you think this one is?" His voice wavered slightly and there was a hint of…_anger_ flavoring it.

"I…I thought it was a swan, Miroku." Sango stepped back a foot, but Miroku only advanced on top of her.

He gave her a look that bored into her eyes. It would not be soon forgotten. Then Miroku turned his head and shouted, "Damn you, you ignorant child! Damn you for your infernal innocence!" What was meant to be a compliment before was now a harsh insult.

Startled, Sango fell to the floor. "What'd I…?"

"It is not a swan dress! If you'd had know what its real purpose was, I assure you Sango, you would not be wearing it!" Miroku watched her try to obscure her face behind her arm in both fear and shamefulness.

"I'm…I'm sorry…" Sango whispered wretchedly. Miroku felt his heart sink inside his chest. His burst of rage was uncalled for, he realized that now.

"Perhaps I should take you home…" He leant her a gloved hand for assistance. "I will help you across the lake, but I will go no further from there."

Sango sniffled, rubbed her eyes and nodded.

* * *

Kagome's eyes scanned the room frantically, searching for any sign of Kuronosuke. She scuffled into Sango's room and backed up against the door. Her eyes were skimming the room frantically. 

It was then that Kagome noticed something strange.

There was a dark crack between the mirror and the wall. Kagome moved closer to investigate, and pushed the mirror further out.

It swung open as if on hinges.

Kagome's heart skipped a beat. '_It's a trap do_or,' she realized suddenly, _'So _this_ is how Miroku and Sango stay in contact…'_

Kagome looked into the passageway beyond and shivered. She couldn't go in there… she couldn't, but she had to. She stepped into the darkness, and her eyes quickly adjusted. Unlike Sango, she had no qualms about it being dark.

Something scrambled outside the room and Kagome fled back and shut the mirror in panic. She plopped on the bed and crossed her legs casually. To her immense relief, it was only Sango.

"Did you run into him?"

"Yes, he asked if you liked the flowers he had sent you." Kagome cleared her throat. "But…luckily, for the _both of us_…he had a meeting to go to with his brother. He said he'd come by later to give you some gift. What a nice guy, don'tcha think?" She chuckled nervously behind her hand.

Sango raised an eyebrow. "Yes…very nice."

Kagome shot up from the bed and placed an arm around Sango's shoulders. "Well good. Let's go to chorus lessons before Madame Kaede asks where we were." Kagome led Sango out of the room, asking her a question while doing so. "How'd you get back here, anyway?"

"Trap door, center stage." Sango confirmed.

"So there's more…" Kagome mumbled to herself.

"What was that, Kagome?"

"Oh…nothing."

* * *

Miroku gently placed the white dress on the mannequin of Sango and sighed in remorse. Adjusting the veil, he closed his eyes against several memories which threatened fresh tears.

* * *

A/N: Still sick, believe it or not. Curse my frail body! Anyway, I didn't even attempt to proof-read. I'm not even supposed to be on the computer. 


	28. Chapter 28

"Sango!" There was a knock on her door.

"Yes Kagome?"

"Come on! I want to be there early."

Sango suppressed a laugh, then walked over to the door and opened it. "Well wait a moment, all right? I have to find a dress!"

Kagome lowered her hand from the door and blushed. "You mean you haven't--?"

"Oh, she has a dress, Miss Higuarashi, you can be sure of that." Kuronosuke's voice made Kagome jump in surprise. She backed away allowing him entrance to Sango's room. Sango greeted the viscount with a sweet smile.

Kagome sighed, turned on her heel and replied, "I'll give you two some privacy, but I expect you to be ready by the time I come back, Sango!" She groaned in anticipation and went to find someone in need of her entertainment.

"What a nice surprise, Kuro—"

Kuronosuke raised a finger to her lips. "Shhh!" He cooed softly, "Here, I have something for you." Behind his back, Kuronosuke withdrew a package, and placed it in Sango's outstretched arms.

Sango blinked innocently and went to place the box on her bed. She quickly opened it to find a pale pink dress folded up on the inside lining.

"It-it's beautiful…" She stuttered, carefully picking up the white-silver mask that was lying horizontally on top of it. "But…but I simply can't accept this." She ran her fingertips over the small pink roses that seemed to be sewn into the lace.

"But why?" Kuronosuke seemed deeply disappointed.

Sango gulped and motioned for him to sit beside her on the bed.

* * *

Heaven knows, it wasn 't easy telling Kuronosuke about Miroku. 

"The man is obviously quite insane," he said ominously. "I think this is a matter for the police. "

"No!" Sango breathed in horror. "Kuronosuke, if you involve anyone else in this I shall have to deny everything. Why can't you just try to understand? I don't want to lie to you anymore!"

"Understand what—that you're in the hands of some unscrupulous hypnotist who has determined to take advantage of your innocence for his own ends? I tell you this, if I knew where to find him I'd damned well call him out and put an end to this miserable farce once and for all. Sango, I don't care if you've lied, I care that you're safe!"

She shivered and clutched his sleeve urgently.

"Don't even think about challenging him, you wouldn't stand a chance. Kuronosuke, you'll be dead before you can take aim to fire. For God's sake promise me you 'II never try to find your way down there alone!"

"Why do you have to go back? I simply don't understand this hold he seems to have upon you. You behave as though you had no mind of your own. Sango, if you're frightened of him—"

"I'm not frightened of him... not for myself, anyway. You need have no concern for my safety. Miroku would die rather than hurt me. "

Kuronosuke came across the room and took hold of Sango's arms. His fair, boyish face was flushed and his piercing eyes suspiciously bright.

"Are you in love with him?" he demanded simply.

"I don't know," Sango said.

He nodded and stood back, taking his hands off her arms.

"Is there any chance that you may know sometime in the near future? Or shall I just go away for good and stop bothering you? That would please Miroku, wouldn't it?"

Tears welled up in her eyes and she turned away to pick up her hairbrush.

"If you had seen him, you would never say anything so cruel and heartless."

"Tell me about him!"

"I've already told you! "

"Well, tell me again. I want to hear it again!"

"What do want to hear about?" She cried furiously. "The murders ... the thefts ... what is it, Kuronosuke?"

"I want to know what he looks like!"

Sango stared up at him with sudden dolefulness.

"He looks like you, Kuronosuke! He looks exactly like you—when you've been dead for a few months!" She couldn't bear to look at him. "Are you satisfied?"

Kuronosuke sank down on the bed and leaned his head against his hand for a moment.

"You're really not lying about that, are you?" he muttered at last.

"No," Sango said coldly, "everything that I have told you about him is true. That includes what I feel for him. "

"I see." He got up slowly, brought a little jeweler's box out of his coat pocket, and set it on the table. "I bought this today, along with the dress. I was hoping you might accept it, but since there doesn't seem to be much chance of that, I may as well leave it anyway. I hardly think they'll want to take it back. "

Sango opened the box with trembling fingers and the light of the gas lamps showed her a breathe-taking diamond ring.

"It's been nearly a year since we've reunited…"

"Oh, Kuronosuke!" Sango sighed. "I can't possibly wear this for you while Miroku-"

"Sango, just…please, before you reject me, think about it." Kuronosuke gently squeezed her hand, slipped the ring onto a thin, silver chain and fascined it around her neck. The dimond was now hidden between the cleavage of two soft, round breasts.

Sango was speechless.

"All you have to do is tell me you don't love me, that you don't want to marry me. That's all you have to say to make me leave you.I don't mind if you feel you have to hide it for now," he said. "You and I have kept secrets since we were ten years old. "

When he kissed her, Sango made no effort to stop him, and the feeling of guilt became almost unbearable. Miroku…Miroku, she hadn't seen him lately…

"Thank you…for the dress. I'll wear it for tonight." Sango murmured into Kuronosuke as their lips parted. He smiled gaily and retorted that he couldn't wait until the ball, when he would finally see her in it.

* * *

Kagome looked splendidly at the pale pink dress that had a floaty quality to it. There was a long pause as her eyes widened.. 

"Sango! Where did you _get_…how did you _afford_…" she stammered.

Sango blushed. "It …It was a present."

"You told me you had nothing to wear!" the ballet girl teased, "You little liar!"

"I didn't lie! I just didn't know at the time that I had it…"

Kagome blinked at her for a moment, confused, and then abruptly realized who the "present" would be from. She smiled slyly.

"Oh, you didn't tell me he was going."

"He is."

Kagome gaped. "Miroku's going?"

"What? No! No, I don't think so…" Sango sounded as if she were about to cry but quickly changed the subject. "Kuronosuke gave me this."

"Oh…" Kagome trailed off. "Well, you're going to be the talk of the masquerade! Kikyo is going to be so jealous! It's going to be great!"

Sango forced a grin.

Kagome giggled "Now let's go!" She seemed to hop out the door and bounce down the hallway. Sango couldn't stop from rolling her eyes and laughing at her friend, and then ran to catch up with her.

* * *

The ball was an exceptional affair. It was in honor of the anniversary of the birth of the famous draftsman; and it was expected to be much gayer, nosier, and more extravagant than an ordinary masked ball. There were fabulous dresses displayed all the way down the marble steps of the opera, couples were twirling around madly to the sounds of musical artists, and it was not hard to find one enjoying themselves. 

The two girls entered into the great hall.

"Oh…it's so beautiful!" Kagome exclaimed at once.

Sango bit back yet another laugh. "It's the same as it always looks, Kagome." The color scheme was that of gold, silver and black.

The ballet girl shot her friend a glare. "Shh! Of course it isn't. It has one of those little tables with refreshments on it."

There were only several people there so far, and all of them where whispering and gossiping among themselves. More people filed in by the minute. Some of them Sango could recognize, but some of them looked utterly foreign to her.

The rest of the ballet girls entered a little while later, and they all came over to chat and have a nice gossip. Immediately they began to ask Sango awkward questions about her attire, which she answered as best as she could.

The room was full when La Kikyo arrived at the top of the steps, a smug look on her face.

However, you could barely see her underneath of her dress. The article of clothing was immense, and took up nearly half of the great staircase as she sauntered down it. Every inch of the fabric was covered in glistening fake jewels, in various colors. It almost looked like a stage costume, it was so flamboyant.

No one chose to comment on this, however, and the Prima Donna obviously thought she was the belle of the ball…until she caught a glimpse at Sango.

Already the ballet girls were snickering and making jokes behind cupped hands. Sango thought she heard Kagome say something like, _"Her dress is nearly as overdone as her voice!"_ Sango couldn't help but giggle lightly at that.

A few moments later, Kuronosuke appeared and asked Sango for a dance. She agreed, because she was starting to get bored. They danced for awhile, Kuronosuke obviously admiring his taste of clothes on her. Sango couldn't help but chuckle. He was acting a bit cocky, wasn't he? Finally she was worn out, and refused to dance anymore for the moment. It was fun, but tiring. Kuronosuke nodded, wrapped a hand around her waist and together, they sat down on one of the steps.

Sango looked over to where her friends were seated and laughed lightly as she saw Madame Kaede had found the ballet girls, and was now angrily scolding Kagome for her seductive apparel.

"Ye look like a little prostitute, Kagome Higuarashi! Change that dress immediately!"

"But Madame, it's just for the party!"

"Did ye hear me?"

"But—"

"Now!"

"Hey, old hag shut it! She looks fine to me!" Inuyasha spat, coming to the rescue.

Kaede eyed him, "Inuyasha, you ungrateful dog!" She stomped over to Kagome's mother in anger, not wanting to argue with his stubbornness. Kagome smiled sheepishly at him, who then asked her for a dance and growled in delight when she accepted.

Sango turned her attention to someplace else, however, when she heard a familiar, unwanted voice behind her.

"Zo! Zee leetle brat 'as come!"

Sango hesitantly turned to face Kikyo. "What is it you want, Madame?"

"I vas just going to zee eef I could find out where oo got zat _'ideous _dress."

"It was a present," Kuronosuke cut in. "from me. If that is all you wanted, then I think we'll take our leave."

"But zat eesn't all! I vas just going to zay, how ees your leetle ghost friend? Recovering from zat bullet, ees 'ee?"

Miroku must've gotten into more trouble since Sango last saw him those few months ago... it made her heart ache with sadness. Sango then went white with rage. "How _dare_ you, you foul woman! Leave me alone, I wasn't bugging you!"

"Sango, please don't make a scene—"

But by now, they had the attention of half of the people at the party.

"Ooh, zee poor thing ees _offended._"

Sango's hands were balled up into fists, and she was trembling in her anger.

"_Leave me alone!"_

Suddenly Kikyo's eyes caught her necklace. "Vat ees _zis?_"

She reached out and, before Sango could even react, snatched it from around her neck, breaking the chain.

Sango cried out and tried to take it back, but Kikyo backed up, a horrible sneer on her face.

"ee von't be appy oo zee this, vill ee? Viscout, oo are her new lover?" She dropped the necklace to the floor, where it made a small tinkling sound as it hit the hard marble. "oo think I ought voo vere innocent!" Kikyo glared at Sango and smirked.

Sango couldn't bear to look down at it, sure that it was broken.

Kikyo was frowning, however, and so she chanced a glance.

It wasn't.

The Prima Donna snarled with rage and left in defeat. Sango reached down to pick it up and Kuronosuke offered to put it back on. She nodded.

They continued to resume activity, singing a joyous song that made everyone dance along in delight. All was soon forgotten.

_Masquerade, paper face on parade, masquerade! Hide your face so the world will never find you! Masquerade, every face a different shade, Masquerade! Run and hide but the face will still pursue you! Masquerade—_

The orchestra suddenly stopped playing as the lights dimmed. Attention was focused on a man dressed all in scarlet, a huge hat and feathers on top of his jet back hair, which he carelessly tossed aside into some dark corner. On his face was an alluring half-mask, crafted to resemble a skull. From his shoulders huge an immense red-velvet cloak, which trailed down the steps like a king's train; on this cloak was embroidered in gold letters, which everyone seemed to be whispering aloud, "Don't touch me! I am Red Death stalking aboard!"

Sango felt herself go weak in the knees. He sang something about a play: "Don Juan Triumphant", all of which seemed to be a slur of words to her, and then Sango found herself walking towards him, or rather him walking towards her, it wasn't quite clear. It was as though Sango was in a trance, as if there was no one else in the room beside her and Miroku. However, Miroku's cobalt eyes soon found their way to the chain on her neck. He shuddered, seeming deeply betrayed. Like Kikyo, Miroku tore the ring from Sango's flesh.

"_You belong to me!"_

Sango gasped, watching as Miroku disappeared behind a burst of flames. She went to reach out and grab his arm, when suddenly she realized that he had disappeared behind another trap door. She inwardly groaned, forgot about everyone else and went in after him.

Kuronosuke frowned from the sidelines.

* * *

**A/N:** I am raising my goal to 500 reviews by the time this story is over. Think I can do it? Oh- question, should Inuyasha and Kagome have a little romance as well?  



	29. Chapter 29

**A/N**: Bonjour/Konnichiwa my loyal readers/reviews! This one's a total fluff chappie!

Anyway, I just wanted to make a quick shout out to my friend, **BlackTopHat**, for I found her review has made me laugh…_hard_.

'…_Kikyo talks amazingly weird, I know it's an accent she's developed, but still, was that hard to write? Because it was kind of hard to read. I had to say it aloud and my brother was all "What's up with your voice? Sounds retarded. Like you have a mouth full of mashed potatoes."'_

Omg, yes. It is extremely hard to write, not to mention it's OOC, but it's one of the things I loved about the actual Carlotta and I just had to put it in here. If I get lazy (probably sometime in the near future) I'll just make up an excuse for Kikyo to start talking like a normal human being. BTW BlackTopHat, your brother sounds exactly like mine.

It you guys want your own shout outs, just ask for 'em. And remember, I'm always looking forward to new readers!

* * *

(**A/N**: Let's back up a bit, to when Sango was in her trance-like state)

He could hear whispering begin like wildfire, spreading all throughout the room. The musicians had stopped playing their music and were looking around for the cause of the sudden lack of dancing.

The Red Death smiled grotesquely as he turned to face the two managers, who went white in the face.

"_Ah, my managers."_

Ginta and Hakkaku stared at him in awe.

"Er… Good evening monsieur," Hakkaku began. He had not yet connected the man in the Red Death costume with the Opera Ghost. "Enjoying the party?"

Idiot.

The Red Death took a few smooth steps towards them, quickly covering the distance. _"Of course. A pity, though, as soon as I got here all of the festivities seem to have ended. Have you missed me, good monsuiers?"_

Ginta gestured irritably at the orchestra to keep playing their music. "Monsieur, we're very sorry about the inconvenience. Why've you all stopped dancing?" he suddenly shouted at the people, who just watched him with amused yet horrified faces.

No one moved.

"He's up to something, Sango." Kuronosuke muttered to her, "I just hope he doesn't do anything irrational…"

Miroku glanced quickly at Sango and Kuronosuke as if he had heard, then turned back to Ginta and Hakkaku.

They stared at him blankly.

The Red Death chuckled slightly. _"What's the matter, good messieurs, did you think that I had left you for good?"_

The managers exchanged glances that said clearly that yes, indeed, they had thought that he'd leave.

"_Well, I have written you an opera!" _Red Death removed a bound manuscript from a deep pocket in his robe and threw it at Hakkaku, who caught it and staggered a little.

"_Don Juan Triumphant! But I warn you that _my_ opera must be perfect…and therefore, Kikyo is placed with the chorus. I would prefer it if she lip-syncs. Remember that I instructed that Bankotsu lose some weight? He's getting a bit on the heavy side_. (At this, Jakotsu began to get riled up, but Inuyasha firmly held him back. Jakotsu had no complaint and let Red Death continue.)_ Well, Benkotsu hasn't yet, but before my opera he shall. Remember to keep Box Five reserved for me, and that my salary is due at the end of the month."_

He took a step back and bowed slightly to Sango. _"As for our star, Miss Sango Youkaitashi…" _ Red Death began saying his next verse in song, "_No doubt she'll do her best, it's true. Her voice is good, she knows. Though if she wish to excel, she still has much still to learn._" Miroku paused, shooting a bitter glance at Kuronosuke, whose heart pounded viscously inside his chest cavity, "_If pride would let her return to me, her teacher…her teacher._"

Miroku's cobalt eyes seemed to brighten up against the black face make-up that he painted around his eyes (in order to make them appear like the sockets of a skeleton). He breathed in, and started walking towards her.

Kuronosuke went to tighten his hold on Sango, but found that there was nothing there but air beside him. He bit on his lower lip to keep from crying her name, but Sango was already face to face with Red Death.

Kuronosuke's insides jumped as he heard the man bellow, "Your chains are still mine," but the last bit he couldn't make clear.

There was a flash and a plume of fire-like smoke. When the smoke was cleared, both Red Death and Sango had vanished.

Slowly, the facts began connecting, and Hakkaku gaped. "Ginta! Do you know who that was? It was the Opera Ghos—"

"You idiot! Shut up!" Ginta snapped, smacking him over the head.

There was a shocked silence, and then Hakkaku's shaking voice could be heard saying, "Wow, Ginta, look! He wrote us an opera! Wasn' that nice?"

"_Were you **not **just here_?"

* * *

Sango found her fall a bit less harsh on her small body, partly because she had landed on something soft.

"Huh?" Sango whispered. She then heard a muffled "umph!" from underneath her and gazed down.

"Miroku!" Sango gasped, realizing that she had landed almost directly on top of him. Her legs were tangled intimately with his and her soft breasts were pressing ever so lightly on Miroku's chest.

Sango looked around awkwardly and rolled gently off of him and onto the ground. "Are you all right?" She whispered softly into his right ear.

Miroku continued to stare up at the trap door. "I lost my breath for a few moments…wait just a little longer, it's returning to me."

"Sorry." Sango's cheeks, even in pitch black, showed patches of scarlet. She gazed at the back of Miroku's head as he sat up onto his bottom.

"You've followed me again." He mumbled to the darkness.

Sango sat up next and leaned forward to look at his face. Her eyes were beginning to see well in the dark, and her body immune to the coldness. "I couldn't let you leave without explaining some things." Sango looked down at her dress, "Miroku, why didn't you tell me you've gotten shot?" She sounded like she was choking on tears.

Miroku's eyes narrowed into glittering slits. "I'm sorry; I didn't think you would care. After all, you've defied me by accepting that boy's invitation to be married." He withdrew from his velvet pocket, the ring and squeezed it within his hand.

Sango became annoyed. This was the last straw! "Miroku, I'm tired of this! I'm tired of you getting angry with me for things I didn't do, or didn't know about." She took his face into her hands and forced Miroku to look at her. The tips of their noses (or rather, Sango's nose and Miroku's mask) brushed together from their closeness. "I'm not as helpless and childish as you think I am, and quite frankly, Miroku, I think you deserve a swift kick in the behind!" She inwardly laughed as Miroku's eyes widened. "Now, I did _not_ accept Kuronosuke's proposal, and I still haven't. I was wearing the ring to make him happy; I thought it was the least I could do." She dropped her hands from his flesh and crossed her arms. "But with the way you're pushing me away like this, perhaps Kuronosuke does love me more than you do!" She 'humph'ed and scooted away from Miroku.

"What…what makes you believe that I don't love you?" Miroku pleaded and crawled to Sango's side.

"For one thing," Sango began coolly, "you've nearly abandoned me for five months!"

"But I was working on—"

Sango cut Miroku off without care of explanation, "And second, I find out from _Kikyo_ that you've taken a bullet?" Sango could feel her eyes starting to burn and her lips curling into a pout. "Why didn't you tell me?" Sango sobbed, hiding her face in her hands.

"I didn't want you to worry, Sango…" Miroku cooed, wrapping his arms around her tiny waist.

"How did it happen?" She managed to ask through her tears.

Miroku contemplated whether to answer her or not. "I…I was visiting a friend of yours. Or rather, it was an unexpected visit." He said uneasily.

"Who?"

"Do you have to ask?"

Sango confirmed in her mind that he must've gone to see Kuronosuke one night and suddenly shrieked, "Miroku! You didn't try to _kill _him, did you?"

Miroku was slightly offended. He squeezed Sango affectionately and she leaned back into him in rising comfort. "No, no! I merely wanted to see what all the fuss was about. So I met him in his sleeping chamber. Unfortunately for me, the man must've thought I was some…madman trying to kill him. Ridiculous, no?" Miroku noticed that Sango wasn't laughing and decided to be serious. "Of course, he didn't realize that I was in the room until he noticed my eyes. Poor boy, I must've scared him to death. If you ask me, _he's_ the childish one, because he retreated under his covers in fright. I thought that would be the best time to take my leave. This man was obviously no threat to me. I went out onto the balcony outside the chamber and before I knew it, there was an unbearable pain in my right shoulder and crimson colored blood was splattered on the ground. I'm guessing the boy had a small gun in his dresser draw, either that or under his pillow. But don't worry, my dear! I left before he could catch a good glimpse at me."

Sango froze underneath Miroku. "He shot you? Kuronosuke _shot_ you?"

"It's not his fault, my dear. I seem to have that affect on people. I heard the news all around my opera house the very next day, how some maniac was in the viscount's room late one night. They probably decided to be smart and keep it quiet around you."

"But…but have you healed?"

"I asked Inuyasha to assist me in removing the bullet. I gave him the proper remedies and all was all right."

Sango sighed and relaxed slowly, "I still wish you would've told me…"

"I'll remember that if I ever get hurt again." Miroku was entirely serious and Sango cringed. Hopefully it would _never_ happen again.

"And you weren't going to hurt him?"

"I made you a promise, didn't I?"

Sango smiled and laid her head on his shoulder. She curled her fingers into Miroku's velvet shirt, feeling a rush of icy air against her exposed skin. She shivered, snuggling closer into his body for warmth. Miroku stroked her hair tenderly.

"How do you do it?"

"Hm?" he lazily responded, engrossed in her as Sango twirled a lock of brown hair around her index finger.

"Stay down here all the time? Sure, I'm slowly adjusting but—"

"I've learned to adapt and it's quite nice once you get used to it."

"Living with the rats and spiders is nice?" Sango asked, astonished.

Miroku shrugged.

"Well, when you put in that way…"

Miroku's eyes then widened slightly at her following question.

"How do you bathe?"

"In the lake…" He trailed off and Sango nodded.

"I don't know if I'd be able to do that. I can't swim, and I'd sink right to the bottom if I tried." Sango looked away, embarrassed. Sango then looked over in the direction of the lake. She blinked, looked at Miroku, and stared back.

"Sango?"

Sango looked up at him with such adorable features. "Yes?"

"What is it?"

Sango ran her tongue over her lower lip. "I was just thinking what it would be like if I went _in_ the lake. It'd possibly end in suicide, though."

Miroku pondered this for a moment, got up and circled the area around the bank. "You want to go in _there_?" He pointed to the dark misty depths of the aqua. "Is that right?"

She nodded reluctantly.

Miroku let out a deep sigh in defeat, and traveled back to her. "Let's go, then." He went over and picked Sango up. She found it very tricky not to let a smile creep its way across her face in delight. She watched silently as Miroku used one arm to tightly secure her body to him, and the other, to air out his cloak, letting it naturally spread across the ground. His muscles relaxed as he placed Sango on the fabric, careful for her not to get cold. He then turned himself from her. "You can get undressed on that."

Sango turned bright red. "What?" She squeaked.

"Well, I'd assume you wouldn't want to get your dress wet…" Miroku's voice stammered a bit, knowing that Kuronosuke had given her that gown.

"I…I can't!" Sango said flustered.

Miroku looked at her from the corner of his eye. "Why not?"

I'd be naked, that's why!" She huffed, beginning to think Miroku was a pervert.

Miroku burst out into a nervous laugh. "You have you're under dress on, don't you?"

Sango blinked, suddenly feeling stupid. "Oh…yes…"

Sango obediently obeyed and inched over to the edge of the lake, looking deep into the glassy water.

"On second thought, I can wait for some other time…" She could feel her body start to quiver.

Miroku fought with himself not to look (even if Sango was in her slip) but when he managed to catch a brief look at her from over his shoulder, it was to Miroku's relief that Sango didn't mind his intent gaze. And so, he turned around and knelt down beside her. "Is something wrong?"

"It seems so deep…" She trembled. "I'll sink for sure!"

"And I suppose you think that you'll drown?" Miroku let another sigh escape his lips. "Sango, you're not heavy enough to drown." He grinned, something Miroku did rarely.

"I do not find it funny!"

"No, no of course it's not…" He said, regaining his composer. Yes, Sango falling to the bottom of a lake like a rock was not a laughing matter. "You don't have to worry, I'm right here. I will let nothing happen to you, Sango. Now, this was your idea. The only thing you have to fear is fear itself. Don't make me push you in there!"

"You wouldn't push me in…" Sango smiled mischievously, noting how close Miroku was to the water. One more inch and…

"Oh, but I would."

"But you can't…"

"And why not?"

Sango placed a hand on his chest, leaning into him, "Because…" She whispered into his ear seductively, "You're all ready in it." Firmly but lightly, Sango applied just enough force to send Miroku into the mist with a satisfying splash.

Miroku popped his head out of the water, a look of bewilderment on his face. "You pushed me in…"

"Yes, and it was very fun while doing so." Sango laughed, watching as he pulled his wet hair out of his face. The soaked sleeves of his Red Death outfit were now clinging to the skin of his arms, as they floated on top of the water.

"I clearly have underestimated you, my dear."

"Yes you have, Miroku!" What a triumph this was to Sango. "Really though, are you all right?"

"Just swallowed some water…" He replied, swimming closer to her.

Sango was now on her hands and knees, gazing in at him. "I hope it wasn't too much." Her face just seemed to brighten up, with a look as if she had fallen head first into an everlasting love. Sango was far too busy admiring Miroku, to even notice that he had wrapped a damp arm around her waist and had dragged her in with him.

The outcome of this was a smaller splash, a tiny yelp and a fierce hold on Miroku.

"Miroku! Miroku!" She cried. Her eyes were squeezed shut.

He drew her to him. "I have you, Sango. You're safe. I won't let you go…"

Sango slowly fluttered her eyelashes open, and looked up into his cobalt orbs…

_I won't let you go…_

It echoed in her head.

"I told you you wouldn't drown! Now if I _were_ to let go…"

"No!" Sango clung to him protectively, "You said you wouldn't!"

Silence.

Miroku nodded and rested his chin on her head.

* * *

**A/N**: Yay for a pointless chapter! 


	30. Chapter 30

"You said earlier that you wanted to have a singing lesson. You still want me to sing?"

"Of course." Miroku said. "Sango, music is what we are. It's our passion. It's the one constant in our world. When you sing for me, you make me feel as if I have been whisked to heaven's gates, and have the privilege of hearing the _Angels_ sing."

Sango's face grew much softer as he described their music together. When she sang for him, a wave of euphoria swept over her. When she sang for him, all she could focus on was pleasing him, pushing herself every time. And when he sang for her, that's when the real fireworks in her body began. When he sang, Sango would grow short of breath, her eyes unable to tear away from him; the area between her thighs would begin to pulsate.

"You have the same effect on me." She said looking back down to her meal. Miroku had once again taken her back to his home and attempted to make food. She shifted her eyes towards his, and noticed that he was staring at her, grinning.

They both let out a bashful giggle, and a sigh of relief. They ate together, talking about a multitude of topics: the managers, Madame Kaede, the ballet. Then Sango brought up Don Juan Triumphant.

"And Don Juan Triumphant? What am I going to be singing in it?"

It would be a crime for any other girl to sing the role of the passionate Aminta.

"Come with me, Sango."

He rose out of his chair, and walked into the next room where the organ was. Sango obediently followed him, curious to see what he was going to show her.

"This is the role I had intended for you to sing. I want you to sing this part, right here. Can you do that for me?"

Sango studied the notes and lyrics and nodded. Within seconds Miroku was playing and she began to release a glorious sound from her small body.

"_No thoughts within her head but thoughts of joy! No dreams within her heart, but dreams of love!"_

Miroku abruptly stopped playing and gazed into Sango's eyes. He never imagined it sounding as splendidly sweet as the way it did, coming from her two beautiful lips. She sang it the way it was meant to be sung, the way he could never dream of. His masterpiece was being brought to life, right before him, and he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Is something wrong? Is that not how it's supposed to sound?"

"No. God, no." Miroku replied quickly, forcing himself to hold back tears of joy. "That was…that was…perfection!"

Sango placed a hand on her cheek and glanced up from her music. "How did you learn to sing? Did you have an angel?" She smiled gently at her playful comment.

Miroku flushed slightly, but rewarded Sango with a soft smile and took his fingers off the keys. A faraway look came to his eyes, and he sighed at the painful memories. "No, Sango... there was no angel for me. Never an angel for me..." Slowly he turned his head to look at her directly. "I have sung... as I do now, since I was very small." He stated, willing the pain that must be very evident in his eyes, to go away.

Her head tilted to the side and she pursed her lips as she studied his pained features. It seemed he'd been through some dreadful things, and she felt bad for making him recall them. "I'm sorry if I've made you remember things that you did not wish to. I didn't mean to pry."

"Nonsense..." He said, reaching out to grasp her. Looking down at their joined hands, he slowly met her hazel orbs and chanced a very slight smile. "You may ask me anything you wish... you have every right to know about the man who has told you such a great lie."

Sango almost began to move closer to him, but decided against it and gazed into his eyes. They seemed to touch her soul. "I've forgiven you, Miroku. You know that." She smiled reassuringly at him and squeezed his hand.

"I am not worthy of your forgiveness. But thank you, sincerely… I thank you."

Sango smiled.

* * *

Kikyo was in Sango's dressing room, searching for the catch on the mirror. She had heard something about the mirror being a trap door. The diva had eavesdropped on Kagome. What a wicked woman! 

Therehadto be one—she had also _spied_ on Sango one night, and saw her go through it.

However hard she searched, though, she couldn't get it.

In rage, she grabbed Sango's heavy metal hairbrush from the dresser and flung it with all her might at the mirror.

There came a loud, earth-shattering sound of breaking glass and then an eerie silence.

Kikyo looked up to see, through a ragged glass frame, a dark passageway.

Suddenly, she was nervous. She looked at the revolver she had in her hand, and then gained courage. _'He's just a man…and all men can die.'_

Besides, he had threatened her role of Prima Donna! _No_ one threatened her career!

She ducked through the broken glass and into the passageway.

* * *

Apparently, everyone had gotten over the Phantom's sudden appearance and disappearance, for now they were all dancing and laughing again. 

Kagome and Inuyasha sat and talked for a while, but their conversation was abruptly interrupted as Madame Kaede burst into the room, eyes searching around until she found Inuyasha.

Silently she beckoned to him, and Inuyasha approached her with caution, wondering what was wrong. Kagome followed after him.

Madame Kaede gave Kagome's dress a scathing look and then waved it away as unimportant. "Follow me, both of you."

The three walked quickly through the shadowy halls of the Opera House. Madame Kaede began to explain.

"I noticed Kikyo sneaking out of the room after the Phantom disappeared, so I followed her. She went into the managers' office, where she apparently knew a revolver was. After that, she left with the revolver and went to Sango's dressing room.

"I don't know what made her do it. I didn't think she had the spirit to find the Phantom herself. She may have been just too angry…" She paused, a thoughtful look on her face, "But, more than likely, she was just too drunk."

Inuyasha frowned. They had reached Sango's room, and Madame Kaede opened the door.

"Crap…" Inuyasha muttered under his breath as Kagome let out a gasp.

The floor was littered with broken glass, and the place where the mirror had been, now revealed a jagged, gaping hole in the wall.

Inuyasha dashed across the room, ignoring the glittering pieces of glass.

"Inuyasha! Wait!" Kagome cried, "She has a gun! What if she shoots you?"

But Inuyasha's ears were deaf to his friend's cries as he sped down into the black labyrinth.

Kagome hesitated for a moment, and then began to follow him.

"Miss Higurashi!" Kaede called.

Kagome turned and gave her an apologetic smile before she fled.

* * *

Kikyo had only gone a little way into the passage before she had lost her nerve. She would kill this creature, she was determined of it! 

But she was scared…

Frightened and disturbed, she turned to go back, and found she didn't know which way to go.

_Which way _was_ back, for that matter?_

Kikyo turned in circles, looking for any hint of light.

She found none.

Frantic, she picked a direction and ran.

After what seemed like hours, she saw a hint of light ahead. Feeling relieved, she made towards it, only to find that it wasn't the way out after all.

The light revealed a boat, tied on the shore of what looked like an underground lake.

The source of the light was a small lantern hung on the bow of the boat, its light flickering weakly. It was clearly almost distinguished.

How the boat had come to be there, she never found out.

Most likely, Miroku had used it to cross and get to the masquerade, and then had used a different way to get back.

Maybe he swam?

Whatever had happened, Kikyo didn't care. She viewed this as pure luck, and was ready to take advantage of it.

The darkness had all but driven her insane, and since she couldn't go to Sango's room, she only had one thought in her mind—to kill the Phantom of the Opera.

"There ees no Phantom of the Opera…" she reminded herself quietly as she stepped into the gondola, "'E ees a man, and notheeng more…" She grasped the pole and shakily pushed off from the shore.

Just a few feet from the shore, she began to curse. This was harder than she had thought it would be!

She dug the pole into the ground and pushed with all of her strength, which only moved the boat another couple feet.

Cursing louder than before, she tried again, but was failing miserably.

"Zhen I'll keep going, leetle by leetle." she said aloud, "Zis 'ghost' must die!" With renewed determination, she pushed a little harder, though Kikyo still didn't go much further than two feet.

She moved the pole forward to push again, but found that it was stuck. Oddly, it felt as though someone was holding it back…

* * *

Kagome caught up with Inuyasha and stopped her with a hand. 

Inuyasha looked questioningly at her, and she explained. "How do you know where you're going?"

Inuyasha sighed patiently, "I've been down here before."

Kagome nodded. "Oh, okay…"

Inuyasha waved his arm forward. "This way. Follow me."

* * *

Kikyo yanked on the pole with all of her might, and was horrified to find that there was someone clinging to the end with a scaly arm. 

She screamed and dropped the pole into the water, where it sank to the bottom.

She quickly found that this was a stupid move, however, for she was now stranded in the middle of the lake with no way to go further.

She let out a string of angry, frightened, foul words.

Suddenly, Kikyo broke off with another shrill shriek. The creature that had been holding the pole was now slowly tipping the boat over…

Kikyo fell partway into the water, and then grabbed the boat to stop from falling all of the way in.

A cold, clammy hand fastened around her ankle, and she cried out, kicking at it.

The creature was stronger than she had expected though, and she couldn't stop it from pulling her down…

Kikyo let out one last cry, then was submerged in the cold water.

No one ever saw her again.

* * *

Miroku had just finished changing out of his Red Death costume when he heard the shrieks. Thinking that it was Sango, he rushed out to look at the lake. He had left her alone, while he changed into warm clothes. 

The screams had stopped by the time he had reached the door, however, and now the lake was still…

* * *

Kagome followed Inuyasha through the dark passageways, and at last they reached the lake. 

It was still and silent, but oddly…

Kagome frowned. "What is the boat doing in the middle of the lake?"

Inuyasha didn't answer right away, staring at the boat. "I'm not sure… It might mean… But I'm probably wrong …"

Kagome was about to ask what he meant, but suddenly Inuyasha turned and strode back off into the passageways.

Quickly she ran after him, but then tripped and fell in the darkness. "Inuyasha, wait! Where is Kikyo? I don't understand…"

Inuyasha looked over his shoulder and sighed playfully at her. "You're pathetic, you know that?"

He walked over to her and offered his hand.

Kagome blinked but then got insulted and pointed her nose upward. "Excuse me! I am not pathetic! Now, where's Kikyo?"

Inuyasha bent down and picked Kagome up bridal style. Flabbergasted, Kagome's hands flew to his neck and her head rested in its crook.

Inuyasha whispered softly in her ear, "Let's just say…we won't be seeing much more of Kikyo."

* * *

Madame Kaede stood in Sango's dressing room, debating on going after Inuyasha and Kagome. After a moment, though, she brushed the idea aside. If she had, she would probably have gotten lost, and that wouldn't have helped at all. 

Instead, she contented herself with the only thing she could help with at the moment—she began to pick up the shattered glass to the mirror.

When she had most of the bigger pieces collected, she found a broom and brushed the small ones away from the ruined mirror and into a pile in the corner.

She surveyed her work and nodded. It would have to do until she could find a dust bin.

Madame Kaede suddenly jumped as she heard voices in the hallway. They were close—why hadn't she heard them before! They sounded angry, and Kaede realized with panic that they were the voices of the managers.

She turned to face the shattered mirror. _What to do!_

Her eyes found Sango's dresser, and she quickly ran over it and began to push it across the room to the empty frame.

She had just finished when the managers walked in.

"Madame Kaede? What are you doing here? Where's Ms. Youkaitashi?" Ginta asked.

Hakkaku just smiled and waved at her, and she forced a smile back. He was obviously very drunk. Red Death's appearance must of really gotten to him.

"She's out at the moment, but she'll be back soon. Is there something you wanted to tell her?"

Ginta sighed. "She probably could guess, anyway, as the ghost seems to like her for some reason, but she got the largest, coolest role in his opera. We were just going to give her some of the music to practice…"

"I'll give it to her." Keade offered. Then, curiously, she added, "So you _are_ going to perform it?"

Ginta gave her a sour look. "Do we have any _choice_? Here is Mademoiselle Youkaitashi's music."

Kaede carefully took it from him, and then the managers left.

She breathed a sigh of relief and set the music on the bed.

Then her gaze turned back to the pile of glass in the corner. _'I'll have to find a dust bin before someone notices.'_ she thought, then turned to go look for one.

However, the doorway was blocked by a shadowy figure.

Madame Kaede gasped as she realized that it was the Miroku

She was about to ask why he was here, but he spoke first. His voice sounded worried—almost frantic.

"Where is Sango?"

"She's with you, isn't she?"

Miroku groaned and leaned against the doorway.

"Why, Miroku? What's wrong?"

Miroku shook his head and wouldn't answer. Then he looked up and noticed that the dresser was pushed in front of the mirror. He frowned.

"Why is the mirror blocked?"

Kaede flushed a bit. "Oh… I… well…Kikyo, ye see, she was going to…and she threw Sango's hairbrush at… So she could get through, you see… and she… Well, she broke it."

Miroku waved that away, too upset to worry much about the broken mirror. The fact that Kaede was acting odd meant nothing to him. He was too troubled about Sango to think of anything else.

"She… she wouldn't have tried to cross the lake, would she?"

"In what? The boat?" she asked curiously. "Well, yes, I suppose."

Miroku closed his eyes, trying to compose himself. "Why would she leave me?" He whispered.

"Inuyasha and Kagome are looking for ye." Kaede added.

Miroku's head snapped up and he stared at her. After a tense moment, he said, "Follow me."

He walked out into the hallway, and after a moment Keade followed out of sheer curiosity.

She followed him around to the back entrance to his home—the one that went through the torture room—and then he led her out of the front door again.

"We couldn't take the shorter route, over the lake." He explained, "And that is why."

Miroku pointed out to the middle of the lake, where the boat floated.

Kaede gave him a puzzled look. "What happened?"

"I'm not worried about the boat. The Siren will bring it back. But…"

"The Siren? What happened?"

Miroku sighed. "If anyone other than me tries to cross in that boat, the Siren in the lake drowns them." his voice broke about halfway through, and he turned away, trying to compose himself again.

"That is why I asked you where Sango was." he whispered. "I heard someone crying out, but by the time I got out here… It was too late."

* * *

"I think that Kikyo is dead, Kagome." Inuyasha said. 

Kagome's skin whitened several shades. "W-what do you mean… he didn't kill…" she trailed off, eyes wide with horror.

"No."

Kagome sighed, relieved. "Then why do you think that?"

Inuyasha gestured to the boat. "I think she drowned. Surprisingly, I don't mind much." Inuyasha gave a sardonic grin.

* * *

Miroku walked down the passageways in the cellar with ease, pushing all of his emotions away at the moment. He couldn't focus on… on… _her_. Not now. 

Ahh, let's see now… who was first on his list? …

_Sango wouldn't like this. Sango would be upset with you…_

Miroku pushed the voice to the back of his mind and kept walking.

The managers, of course, were first. Ginta and Firmin… Miroku shook his head. They truly didn't know how to run a business.

Not that he was going to kill them. No, he had something better planned…

Next on his list, right under them, was Kikyo. He wasn't going to worry about her until the morning, however, because she had been strangely quiet lately, and he was tired.

Then Bankotsu, he needed to lose weight. Apparently, he still wasn't trying much, for he was heavy now than he was before. Miroku certainly recalled telling Ginta and Hakkaku when they first arrived that the man needed to lose weight, and though he had just reminded him at the Masquerade, he could tell that they still weren't going to listen to him.

Miroku came out of a passageway close to the manager's sleeping quarters. Ginta's was on the left side of the hall, and Firmin's was on the right.

Miroku smiled thinly. Before he died—and oh, yes, he was certainly going to die… he knew he wouldn't be able to live now, without Sango—he was going to make sure that Don Juan was performed perfectly. Unfortunately, part of this was relying on the managers, who were…well… _less _than perfect. And who would play the lead?

Miroku heard angry voices from Ginta's room. Apparently, they were arguing about the score. Gintra was furiously complaining that the music was too hard, the scale was ridiculous, and the entire opera was overall nonsense. Hakkaku, apparently, was still trying to get over his drunkenness, and was saying something about how the cast would just have to work hard, big deal, could he go to sleep now?

Miroku slunk back into the passageways, and found the trapdoor that led to the room the managers were in. The trapdoor exited behind a wall-hanging of some sort.

He opened the door, but stayed behind the hanging.

"_Good evening, messieurs, I see you are having trouble with my opera."_

The managers silenced in an instant.

Miroku smiled and decided to have a little bit of fun. He threw his voice to the other side of the room.

"_What is your complaint with my opera?" _he demanded.

The managers whirled around in their seats and stared at the opposite end of the room.

"N-nothing." Hakkaku stuttered, "It's fine—"

"Yeah right!" Ginta snapped, "Your opera is complete _nonsense_! The music is much too hard for anyone to play, let alone sing!"

Miroku threw his voice once more, so that it would be right beside them. _"Then maybe you need a better orchestra!" _he hissed.

Ginta jumped at the closeness of the voice, and Hakkaku nearly fell out of his chair.

"W-what…" Hakkaku stuttered, but once more Ginta cut him off.

"Our orchestra is fine! There is nothing wrong with their talent! I think that it is _you_ that has problems! The score is _stupid_! None of these notes even sound nicely when played together! Do you _want_ the audience to walk out and ask for refunds!"

Miroku slipped out from behind the hanging. Ginta and Hakkaku didn't see this, as they were not looking in his direction. "Good evening, Messieurs."

He could hear both managers' startled shouts as they scrambled to turn and face him.

When they did, they watched him glide over to stand beside the piano that Ginta had in his room. One of the previous managers had played the piano at least decently, and he had never taken it with him when he left. Perhaps he had thought it was cursed, like everything else at the Opera House.

Ginta and Hakkaku stared at him, then exchanged looks with each other.

Miroku smoothly sat down at the piano and began to play a song from his score.

The managers could only stare, astonished.

Miroku frowned. The piano's pitch wasn't perfect, and it wasn't nearly as good as playing the organ. Still… it was nice to play one last time…

When he finished he stood swiftly, returning his managers' amazed stare with flashing cobalt eyes.

"Is there a problem, gentlemen?"

There was a long pause, then Ginta stammered, "N-no."

Miroku smiled. "Good. Then I have no need to kill you. Yet. My opera _will_ be perfect, messieurs, remember that."

He swiftly blew out the candle, and faded into the passageways once more.

When the managers relit the candle, they were amazed to find that he was gone.

"But the door was locked!" Ginta cried, "And the key is still in my pocket!"

Hakkaku only stared and shrugged.

* * *

Miroku rubbed his temples. That hadn't gone the way he had wanted it to. Had wanted to scare them out of their wits—but he hadn't been able to threaten them with anything, or to hurt them. Suddenly he had lost all his passion to do so. He had told Kaede that he was going to scare people, but now he no longer cared. 

He sighed, then suddenly collapsed in the passage. '_What did it matter?' _he wondered to himself, _'Sango is gone. There is no lead for the play anyway.' _No one other than Sango could do the part. He had tailored it to her voice after he met her. No one else would sound right… and _certainly_ not Kikyo, who would surely get the lead when they discovered that Sango had disappeared.

Miroku closed his eyes. Everything was falling apart, and it was his fault. It was his fault Sango was dead…

He closed his eyes, and slumped against the wall, wondering if he could just die there. After all, it wouldn't matter… nothing mattered…

* * *

…Three days later… 

Sango was more than upset. She had merely gone to change out of her wet dress, and when she had come back, he was gone. And she was in his house all alone! Where _was_ he?

Sango began to cry.

"Oh Miroku…" she whispered, tears coming to her eyes, "Where are you?"

* * *

Inuyasha searched the passageways once again, after dropping Kagome off. 

He had hunted through almost all of the passages, however, and was beginning to lose hope of finding his friend. Maybe he wasn't there after all. Maybe he had left the opera house for good…

Suddenly the hanyou, who had been lost in his own thoughts, stumbled over something lying in the pathway.

His eyes widened as he saw what it was.

"Miroku!" He quickly knelt down beside him, shaking him gently. "Miroku, how long have you been down here?"

Miroku didn't respond, and his eyes remained closed. His breathing was shaky, and his skin was even paler than usual.

Inuyasha shook him a little bit harder, and Miroku weakly pushed him away.

"Who…? Ah, Inuyasha. I should have known you'd find me." he lay back and closed his eyes once more. "Leave me, now. I did not want to be found. I was so close…"

Inuyasha wouldn't leave. "Miroku, no, get up! You don't understand— _Why aren't you in your house?_ "

But Miroku was unconscious, now, a small, sad smile on his face.

Inuyasha knew that now he wouldn't be able to wake Miroku up. If his guess was right, Miroku had been laying here in the cold, damp passageway for nearly two and a half to three days, and had lost a lot of strength. He wouldn't live much longer. He had lost the _will_ to live.

"Miroku! She's alive." Inuyasha sighed, knowing his friend couldn't hear him. "She's _alive._"

* * *

Sango was pacing her room anxiously, trying to think of anymore places to look for Miroku that they hadn't thought of yet, when suddenly there was a knock. 

She turned to face the door.

Inuyasha stepped in, looking tired.

"I'm glad you're here, Sango. I've found Miroku."

Sango's eyes brightened. "You did?" she whispered, almost not daring to believe it.

Inuyasha nodded, and then sighed. "I dragged him down here. Help me lift him."

Sango's happy smile suddenly faded away. "You have to carry him? Why?" she closed her eyes and swayed slightly. "He's not… he isn't…"

"He's still alive, but barely. He might not make it."

Sango hurried over and helped him carry Miroku over, and then set him on her bed.

"Miroku…" she touched his cheek and gasped. He was cold… even colder than usual. "Where was he? What can we do?"

"I found him in a passageway on the right side of the building. Apparently he had just collapsed there. Sango… I've never seen him like this. I think he _wants_ to die." Inuyasha sighed and shook his head. "He thought you died and didn't bother to check his own house before coming to conclusions."

"_Died_?" Sango said in horror.

Inuyasha grimaced. "Kikyo's dead, Sango. She went to shoot Miroku with a revolver she had found. She took the gondola but the Siren drown— the siren drowns anyone who stirs the boat other than Miroku. I'm guessing he heard her screams and thought it was you trying to return to the opera."

Sango was now more frantic than ever. "What can we do! How can we help him! He has to live… he has to!"

"Pile the blankets on top of him." Inuyasha instructed, "I'll get him some water. We'll have a better chance of saving him if we can wake him up. Plus, he hasn't taken in any water for nearly three days… he has to drink something. I'll try to get some food, too, but we don't have much time."

Sango nodded, and ran over to a chest in a corner to pull out some blankets that she used when the weather got cold, then pulled them over top of Miroku.

When she looked up, she saw that Inuyasha had already left.

She turned her gaze back to Miroku, and stroked his forehead. "Oh, Miroku… please live… you _have_ to live…"

She set her head down on his chest and cried, unable to stop the tears. "I love you, Miroku. Please…_please_… don't leave me…"

* * *

**A/N**: That solves my Kikyo dialogue problem! 


	31. Chapter 31

Miroku was dead. Dead and gone, settled in his coffin never to see the light of day again…

Err…well, Miroku never really _did _see the light of day, but that's beside the point.

Yes, Miroku was definitely gone—

**A/N**: Wait, what? Do you honestly think I'd kill him off just like that, with no further explanation? What kind of author do you think I am? No, here's the real chapter…

Don't kill me just yet.

* * *

Miroku was dreaming. 

He usually wasn't one to dream—if he ever had any images in his sleep, they were usually nightmares from the past.

But now… now he saw a figure, bathed all in light.

That was when he realized that he was dead.

A moment passed as Miroku gazed at the silhouette distrustfully. He was certain he was about to fall from wherever he was and land in hell. Unless this _was_ hell… Well, if it was, it definitely wasn't what he had expected.

The silhouette, for some reason, seemed slightly amused at something. _"No… this isn't hell."_

Miroku stared at the figure. _They had read his mind…_

Another long moment passed as Miroku examined the profile, and then he asked the only question that came into his mind. "Where is Sango?"

The figure chuckled. _"She isn't here, if that's what you think. You should not be here either, Miroku. It is not your time. Go back."_

A strange sensation went through Miroku's body, and he didn't even have time to wonder how the mysterious person knew his name before everything went dark…

* * *

Sango sat rigid in shock. Miroku had stopped breathing. 

"No…No!" she cried out, grabbing his shoulders and shaking them, but it was no use. Miroku was dead.

Sango couldn't believe it. She just couldn't grasp the concept that her Angel was dead… he _couldn't _be! She had thought that Miroku would always be there for her… and now he was gone.

She felt sick and dizzy, and let herself collapse on his body. "Miroku… Why did you leave me…" she choked, more hot tears spilling from her eyes. "My Angel…"

* * *

Miroku could distantly hear someone crying. Who was it? What the heck was going on? Where was he? 

He tried to move, but found that he couldn't. It felt as though something was pressed down on top of his body.

Then the person who was crying spoke. Miroku didn't understand the words, but he didn't have to. He recognized the voice.

"Sango?" he whispered.

There was a pause, and then…

"Miroku?"

Miroku forced his eyes open, and they met with Sango's wide hazel ones. "Sango… You're not… dead?" Every word took a great amount of effort to say.

"Miroku! I thought…" Sango stammered, "You stopped breathing… and I thought… _you_ were dead…"

Miroku gave a small, strained smile. "It seems we had a common misconception."

Sango started crying again, but this time they were tears of relief. She flung her arms around Miroku's neck, and he winced. It was getting hard to breathe with her on top of him.

"Sango…" he only got that out before he launched into a coughing fit.

At that moment, however, Inuyasha entered the room.

"Miroku! You're awake! I didn't think you were going to make it—" the dog paused, took the scene in, then smiled slightly. "Sango?"

She looked up at him.

"Miroku can't breathe, woman."

Sango looked down at Miroku and blushed, then pushed herself off of him. "Sorry…"

He tried to make a dismissive motion to show her that it was okay, but found that he still couldn't move his arms.

Inuyasha hurried over and held something up to his mouth, and then helped him drink.

When he was finished, both the hanyou and Sango helped him to sit up. Then Inuyasha handed him some food.

"Here… I couldn't find anymore, but I think this is good for now. It's better than the stuff you're used to, anyway."

Miroku nodded numbly, and found that the feeling was coming back into his arms and legs. It still took an effort to move, but he was able to, and that's what mattered.

After a little while, Inuyasha left them to themselves.

Sango gently wrapped her arms around Miroku, still giddy with relief.

There was still something Miroku didn't quite understand, though. "I… thought you were dead… the boat…"

Sango bit her lip. "Oh… right… You didn't know, then. Um… Kikyo had a bit too much to drink, and apparently she thought she could kill you herself, so she stole a revolver and went to find you…"

Miroku began to smile. "And found the lake… and took the boat." He chuckled darkly. "It served her right."

Sango rested her head on his shoulder. "You scared me."

Miroku reached up and hesitantly stroked her hair. "You scared me more."

Sango smiled faintly and closed her eyes, her breathing beginning to slow. "Goodnight, Miroku…I…I lov…" And soon Sango speech was cut off by a small yawn and then she fell fast asleep.

Miroku paused for a moment, and then tenderly kissed the top of her head. "My angel…"

After a while, Miroku had also fallen into a deep slumber. Sango opened one eye and sighed happily. Her lips softly brushed Miroku's uncovered cheek; her right hand ran through his hair. Carefully, Sango tip-toed out of the room and into the hall. She picked up a candle, which helped her guide her way through the darkness.

When reaching the drawing room, Sango set the little lamp down on the table holding the music box. Sango slid her dark cloak off, looking around for the mannequin which so closely resembled her. A warm smile crossed her face as an idea formed in her mind. Silently she walked around to where she had spotted the mannequin, noticing how life-like it was. Sango blinked in realization at the airy veil that sat on top of "Sango's head".

Cursing herself silently for being an idiot before, Sango lovingly removed the dress and veil from their place and hurried back to the bedroom area. A swan dress! How ridiculous! No wonder Miroku had gotten so upset.

The red silk of her nightgown was now completely hidden by the silvery white satin. It had no difficult buttons or fastenings and was meant to be worn without a corset. Sango mouthed 'thank you' up towards the heavens. She smoothed her fingers over the fine material, thinking about Miroku imagining it in his mind; drawing it out, envisioning her as she was… how Sango was finally within its silky embrace. How Miroku must've longed to be that dress, where he would be able to caress Sango's entire body for as long as he desired.

Wordlessly she placed the veil on her head then moved about the room, lighting candles all around and then pulling the cord to lower the black gossamer curtain that encircled the swan bed. She stood behind its filmy cover, hands folded together, sitting there in deep thought. Sango knew this was her wedding gown. Sango was _His_ living bride.

* * *

Bankotsu burst in, an angry and worried look on his face. Before either Hakkaku or Ginta could say anything, he let out a string of curses and insults. 

"Do you know how late it is, dude?" Ginta said, exchanging a terrified look with Hakkaku.

Bankotsu took several deep breaths, and the color of his face faded from bright red back to a normal tan tone. As soon as he could speak again, he asked angrily, "Where is Kikyo?"

The managers exchanged another look.

"We don't know… we haven't seen her." Ginta said calmly. "Wasn't she with you?"

Bankotsu glared at him. "If she _was_, then I wouldn't be here, would I? Where is she!"

"I've already said, I don't—"

"You _don't know_." Bankotsu finished for him. "She has been missing for three and a half days, and all you can tell me is that you _don't know_."

"She's been missing for three and a half days?" Hakkaku repeated incredulously.

"Indeed! And you didn't even _notice_?"

Ginta frowned at him, "We've been busy. How would _we _know what happened—"

"You must stop this man from abducting Sango! I just can't sit back and allow this to happen! How can she ask me to do so?" Kuronosuke barged in, pushing Bankotsu to the side (at which, he snarled) and marching up to Ginta.

"Do you people _know _how late it is—?"

Hakkaku broke his partner off with a moan.

"What is it?" He snapped.

Hakkaku pointed.

He looked to where his friend was indicating, and paled. "Not _another_ one!" he exclaimed resignedly.

For, on the desk, there lay a letter. It was addressed to them in blood red ink on the front in the handwriting that they knew all too well.

"What's this?" Bankotsu asked and, without waiting for an answer, strode over and picked the note up. He broke the seal with his finger, and unfolded the parchment inside.

"No!" both managers cried out at the same time, but Bankotsu was already reading the note. They watched with a bad feeling in the pit of their stomachs as his face slowly lost all of its color.

When he finished reading, he was shaking so hard that he dropped the letter. It was hard to tell whether he was trembling with anger, fear, or sorrow.

Hesitantly, Ginta bent down and picked up the letter from the floor.

Hakkaku leaned over to read it with him.

_Monsieurs,_

_As the time draws closer for his opera to be performed, Miroku will be paying closer attention to the little details. His opera_ _**must** be perfect, and I know that you will do everything in your ability to make it so. _

_As you know, Miroku has assigned me the role of Aminta. I will do my best, and you need not worry about training me to sing the music. My teacher has done that perfectly._

_It is Monsieur Bankotsu that I worry about. Unfortunately, he was our only male vocalist that could even come close to hitting the notes, or else Miroku would have picked another. Please, I am not trying to offend him, I am merely writing down what I have heard from Miroku. "It is a shame that our male vocalists are so lacking in skill." I wouldn't quite put it like that…it seems a bit harsh._

_As for the dancing, he hopes that you will be able to improve it. We have no doubt in Madame Kaede's skills—only of the skills of the people she is training, with the exception of Kagome Higarashi, of course. _

_What he has seen so far has not impressed him. _

_The orchestra is quite horrible. We need another first trombone, and the violinists need to work on playing in tune._

_The chorus, however, is doing very well. This is primarily due to the fact that La Kikyo is not there anymore, and that her absence is permanent. I can say to you that she is dead, and will be…mourned by Miroku and myself._

_On the last note, I remind you once more that Miroku's salary is due. Although, according to what I hear, Miroku should have quite a bundle of money, and should be able to afford someplace other than these chilling catacombs. Please, do not worry about me. I am fine. Worrying would be useless._

_Fondly,_

_Sango Youkaitashi. _

Ginta and Hakkaku stared at the note, shocked.

There was a long, stunned silence, before Hakkaku finally regained his voice.

"He killed her!" he said, feeling sick, "He killed Kikyo!"

Ginta threw the letter down back onto the desk, then announced, "He's a madman! He'll kill us all off!"

"I bet we're next on his list." Hakkaku moaned.

The two looked up at Bankotsu, whose face resembled death.

Ginta stuttered, "I'm not sure if he is insane, or if he is simply evil… but I do know one thing."

"He is evil!" Kuronosuke bellowed, "He has warped Sango's innocent mind so that it can prove similar to his own! And now…well, look! She is doing his "work" for him! This Miroku must be stopped!"

"Well, I'll tell you what we'll do…"

Ginta frowned up at Bankotsu, who was eerily calm after hearing of Kikyo's demise. "What is that?" he demanded.

Hakkaku looked curiously at their lead singer, and motioned for him to keep going.

Bankotsu glared coldly at them. "The Opera Ghost must die."

* * *

**A/N: **I'd like _at least_ 355 reviews to update...please? Anyway, I hope you found this chapter enjoyable. I have taken notice of the absence of BlackTopHat, SlayerSango23, and some of my other loyal reviewers. It makes me sad (pouts).  



	32. Chapter 32

Gasp! A first! Shout outs!

**YamiTai**- I know this is going to sound incredibly dumb… (Blushes) Where is Praha and Vienna? Oh god…everybody read about the stupid ness that is me. Anyway, I'm so glad you and the internet have reunited and thanks for the encouragement!

**Takako****- **OMG! You bought the DVD? Where you interested in PotO before this, or have I created another phan? (adds you to my list of recently added Phantom Phans) Mwahaha…

**Nakamura Aiko****- **Of course you're a loyal reviewer. Mikomi Taisho's stories— your anti-drug P haha, j/k!

**hazeleyegurl28****- **Hazeleyegurl, guess what? I have hazel eyes too! Don' you think the world is just over-populated with brown-eyed people (no offense guys) Anyway, I'm so glad that you're enjoying my story! Keep reading, okay?

**pnaygurl767****- **(hugs) One of my loyal reviewers! Erik, Miroku! Come here, would you?

Erik: Yes, ma ange?

Miroku: Mikomi-sama?

Me: Would you two be so kind as to give this girl a kiss… (Clears throat) Erik, you do yours on the cheek. Miroku, do whatever you want…but no groping.

Miroku: . . .

**goddesofwisdom****- **I'm so glad you thought it was great!

**angel-of-music246- **(adds you to my list of recently added phantom phans) People like you make me so proud to be an author…(tear)

**BlackTopHat****- **Tickets… you got tickets…(pouts) and you didn't buy me one? After all I've done for you, writing these chapters and slaving over an overheated computer…I get _no tickets_? (Starts crying) No…no…I'm happy for you, I really am. I'll get over it in a minute... Erik!

Erik: There, there Christine… we'll put on our own show, just you and me…(kisses my forehead)

Me: (sniff) O-okay…(cuddles into him)

**inugirl4evamore- **you love it, I love you!

**sangofan89- **Thanks for the review, I'm so glad you enjoyed it. Please, come over and have some tea with Erik and I anytime you'd like.

**LilDoggieDemon- **You SET YOUR LOAWN ON FIRE? How in the world did that happen? (Gasps) Thanks for the review. I wouldn't ever want to know what your flame-age is like. (gulp) Keep 'em nice…

You know I'm j/k!

**Nicole Hershberger- **I'm not sad anymore! I just found out you love my story!

**Dark Darianna Minamino****- **I won't let Miroku die, my dear! Just don't cry anymore!

**Alyanorne**- I'm sure you don't stink at writing! Your muses have not abandoned you! And if they have…well then…they're not very good muses. Who needs them? Humph!

**SlayerSango23**- You live! Oh, how I've missed you! Are you still going to write that story about Don Juan? I'd definitely read that (hint hint)! Yes, I try to make Inuyasha as Inuyasha-ish as possible. Lol.

**cHeRry BlOsSoM pUnKEr- **Nah, I'm lazy too…It's 5:44 in the evening and I'm not dressed…ha…I'm a loser…

**SuperShouri****- **I. LOVE. YOU. MORE.

So there.

**Demon Exterminator Barbie****- **Body heat is better than blankets…but I must keep this story T-rated. Or do I?

….How many people want a lemon here? Anyone? Annnyyyonne…?...

Poor Miroku, people are so quick to rush to conclusions…

**Ayuluvsinu- **Loyal reviewer, how I adore thee! Mwah!

* * *

Kuronosuke, Ginta and Hakkaku stared at Bankotsu. 

After a little while, Ginta nodded. "Yeah, I guess… but _how_ is the question! Policemen have tried to go after him, and then told us stories about some crazy "torture room", and how one of their numbers disappeared and was never seen again. Did you know about that? One of the men—Ahoku, or something like that—went in after the Phantom and never came back. The policemen who waited outside of some trapdoor for him eventually gave up and left. This man—if he _is_ a man!—is almost invincible!"

"_Almost_ is the key word there." Bankotsu told them firmly.

"He's right." Hakkaku added, "Hey you, Kuronosuke!"

Kuronosuke looked at him and nodded slightly, "Yes?"

"You shot the guy! And…and he bled, right? That proves he's mortal—he can die just as easily as any of us can."

"And we'll make sure he does!" Bankotsu exclaimed. "I think I have an idea…"

Kuronosuke suddenly felt a guilty feeling in the pit of his stomach, but quickly brushed it off and listened.

* * *

Sango sat at her desk and brushed her hair, then pulled it up with a white satin ribbon. She carefully pulled on an every-day dress, and then stepped out into the hallway, only to be automatically bombarded by a ballerina. 

Sango smiled when she saw it was Little Rin, then patted her on the head and stepped aside. "What are you in such a rush for?" she asked gently.

"Late for rehearsals!" Rin gasped, and then hurried away down the hall again.

Sango grinned after her. _Poor thing… Madame Kaede won't be happy about that…_

Suddenly she stopped. What of _her_ rehearsalsNo one had told her anything about practice times yet, and she was starting to worry. Perhaps the managers had decided not to do the Phantom's opera after all…and just for extra spite, had cast her out of the next opera that they did!

Sango whirled around and took a few quick steps in the direction that Rin had gone. Then she stopped herself, trying to come back to her senses. This was nonsense! If something of that sort had happened, she would have heard of it by now! She took a few deep breaths, and then wondered what to do for the rest of the day. After all, apparently her rehearsals hadn't begun yet, and there was basically no point in lounging about her room all day.

For a moment she wondered what Miroku was doing, he was probably busy—and if he wasn't, he might still be recovering from his near-death experience.

She shuddered as she recalled that… she wouldn't have been able to stand it if anything had happened to him!

Inuyasha had escorted her back to her room, but not after she had quickly removed her wedding dress and placed it lovingly back on the mannequin. Hopefully Miroku wouldn't have noticed if it had shifted a bit…

Without noticing, Sango's feet had led her to where practice was taking place. To her surprise, Kagome was sitting to the side, just watching as the other girls practiced.

When the ballet girl spotted her, she smiled and waved. Sango hurried over to where her friend was sitting and seated herself beside her.

"What's going on? Why aren't you dancing?"

Kagome laughed. "Kaede is getting frustrated with some of the other girls. She let me and Kagura sit out, because we were getting tired and we were the only ones who got the dance right. The other girls keep getting this part wrong…" Kagome motioned to the dance steps that the other girls were attempting.

Sango tried not to giggle, but it was pretty hard not to. The girls were all out of sync. As she watched, two ballerinas ran into each other, and one fell over trying to do a pirouette. Kagome joined her giggles—it was just impossible not to laugh. Madame Kaede started scolding the ballerinas, and told them to start over again. This time was just as bad—if not worse.

"How much time do you have off?" Sango asked when both of the girls had composed themselves again.

"Quite a while, I'd guess." Kagome said with a smile, "Considering that the other girls aren't even _close_ to getting this right."

"Good. Do you want to go to town, or something? I have an afternoon off, too, and I don't know what to do with myself."

Kagome grinned. "Sure… Let me tell Madame Kaede and Mama where I'm going. I'll meet you in a little bit on the front steps.

Sango nodded and started off to get her coat. As she reached the doors, she could hear Madame Higurashi's conversation with her daughter.

"_Mama, Me and Sango—"_

"_Sango and_ I_."_

"_Sango and _**I **_are going out for a walk. We'll be gone for a little while."_

"_Fine, but be careful—"_

Kagome started to move towards the door.

"—_And Kagome, dear?"_

She turned back.

"_Don't even _think_ of wearing that dress! I saw you at the masque ball! My word, Madame Kaede had a reason to be angry with you! I know you've hidden it somewhere, but I'll find it eventually."_

Kagome gave a half-smile to her mother and hurried after her friend.

Sango smiled as Kagome caught up with her. Finally, things seemed to be getting back to normal.

* * *

"So… The Phantom attends the opening of Don Juan. We lock all of the doors, and post policemen at every one of them. Then, we hide some more gun men down in the orchestra. As soon as we see the Phantom in Box Five, which we reserved for him, we order them to shoot him. Did I miss anything?" Ginta asked. 

"No. The plan is quite simple—but, I think we'll find, quite efficient. Even this mysterious Phantom won't be able to live long with a great deal of bullets in him." Bankotsu laughed cruelly.

"It's sure gonna work…" Hakkaku agreed, amazed. "This may be the end of our troubles!"

"Non, Monsieur… it _will _be!" Bankotsu corrected him, whipping a tear from his eye.

Kuronosuke paled. He didn't like the idea last night, and he certainly didn't like it now. He didn't want to kill the man, merely place him an insane asylum with a straight jacket on of some sorts. If he were to kill Miroku, Sango would never forgive him. She'd further herself from him more so than she was doing now. But Kuronosuke remained silent. It was for Sango's own good.

"Only one thing…" Hakkaku added, breaking Kuronosuke out of his meditation. "What if something …something that we don't _expect_ happens? What if, for example, he doesn't appear in Box Five?"

"He will."

"I'm just saying, _what if he doesn't?_ We _do _have to be prepared for the unexpected."

"I agree." Ginta said with a frown. "So far, this man has been unpredictable."

Bankotsu frowned. "Why _wouldn't_ he be in Box Five? Where else would he go? You don't honestly think that he'd join the common crowd!"

Ginta frowned. "I don't know… I just have a feeling that the Phantom has something up his sleeve… Bankotsu, I don't want anything to go wrong… I don't want anyone else to get hurt! This man has proved that he is not afraid to kill…"

"And if someone else dies, well, that would be the end of the Opera Populaire!"

"Yes… we can't take chances."

"Very well." Bankotsu sounded amused. "Then we'll just tell everyone who comes to arm themselves with revolvers, and to shoot anyone they see wearing evening dress and a half mask!" he laughed. "Get a grip, men! Nothing will go wrong. Trust me."

Ginta sighed. "We trust you, Bankotsu… It's the Phantom we don't trust. You can't blame us for wanting to make sure nothing goes wrong, after everything that has happened!"

Bankotsu shook his head exasperatedly, then shrugged. "Fine. Have it your way… if he doesn't show up in Box Five, what do we do?"

Ginta ran a hand through his hair. "That's just it… I'm not sure. His next move is always hard to predict."

"Then let him make it." Bankotsu exclaimed, "This is just like an elaborate game of chess! Sure, we lost a few pawns… we even lost our queen—" (it was quite obvious he was referring to Kikyo here)—"But we still shall prevail! All we have to do is apply a strategy, trap him in a corner, and, Check Mate! We win. Don't worry about it… it will all end well."

Ginta sighed again. "I certainly hope so."

* * *

The day Kagome and Sango went to town was the last day they were able to for a long time. Over the next month, they were both worked so hard that they never had time to go out and have fun, for in the moments when they weren't rehearsing for _Don Juan_, they fell asleep from sheer exhaustion. 

Kagome's days were full of practices for the ballet, and her mother was getting more and more anxious over the state of the dancing. Out of all the hours they worked, the ballerinas were slowly but surely getting better at long last. At least, now they could perform the dance decently, though it was far from the perfection that the Phantom was demanding.

Sango was worked, if possible, even harder than Kagome. Her days were full of blocking and choreography for the show. Monsieur Toto-sai worked with her on the dances and the acting, things such as where to go and when. Surprisingly, he never worked on her voice. Sango had vague suspicions that Miroku had something to do with this, but she never asked. She didn't want to bring such a touchy subject up. Besides, it wasn't as though she needed the practice anyway, for every evening—though sometimes stretching late into the night—Miroku trained her voice to sing his music.

Even Miroku was beginning to feel the strain of the upcoming performance. He found himself getting more and more irritable when a mistake was made. Several times he surprised even himself by snapping at Sango when she messed up repeatedly on a phrase. Granted, she never messed up that certain part again, but he felt guilty for days afterwards for scolding her. So from then on, when he felt himself getting agitated with a specific part, Miroku dismissed Sango for the night to let himself calm down.

Ginta and Hakkaku hadn't heard from the Ghost for a while, and were beginning to get nervous. Surely they didn't _want_ to hear from the Phantom, but they found that in the absence of his letters, their nerves began to grow. What did it mean that he wasn't writing to them? Was everything going well? Or… or had he found out about their plan? Was he, even now, waiting to catch them alone and strangle them?

They shuddered at these thoughts, and quickly banished them from their minds. However, they always lay on the far reaches, and the managers found that in times when they were alone or in dark places, the eerie, unwanted thoughts began to creep up on them once more.

Kuronosuke, as it was, began acting very odd around Sango. Granted, we—the author and reads—always knew that Kuronosuke was odd, but to Sango, this behavior began to worry her some. But Sango had been so busy preparing; she didn't have time to ask him about it.

All in all, the Opera House was in an extremely edgy mood as the time for the performance of _Don Juan_ drew near.

When they finally reached the week that the opera was to be performed in, there wasn't a single ballerina who wasn't carrying a good-luck charm. Even Kagome herself, who was almost on friendly terms with Miroku, (meaning that she didn't _think_ that he would attempt to kill her), wore a little golden cross around her neck at all times.

The performance was to be on the Friday of that week, and by Monday even the most un-superstitious of the chorus girls was jittery.

By Tuesday, Kagura had an emotional breakdown and barricaded herself in her room. She wouldn't come out even for meals, until Hakkaku himself came and begged her to rehearse, else she displease the Ghost.

On Wednesday, the rehearsals were so intense that Little Rin fainted in the middle of one of the dances, resulting in Madame Kaede telling the girls that they could have a half an hour break to rest. They gratefully seized this chance to take a small nap, though most of them overslept, causing Madame Kaede to scold them and tell them that there would be no more breaks.

Wednesday evening, one of the girls twisted an ankle (whether on purpose, or by accident), which caused general chaos among the others. The chorus protested that they were being worked too hard, and were experiencing vocal fatigue. Monsieur Toto-sai, after an hour of arguing with them, finally broke down and gave them the night off.

Bankotsu kept messing several passages up, and his horrible rendition of "The Point of No Return" made Sango want to hold her ears.

Monsieur Toto-sai was even getting fed up with Sango. She now sang in the practices (because she had to work on blending her voice with Bankotsu's) and he kept telling her, rather angrily, that she wasn't being passionate enough. The problem was, it was hard to be passionate and seductive knowing that her partner was _Bankotsu._ At times, she attempted to pretend he was Miroku, but most of the times she failed.

That night, Sango had a horrible headache, and was dreading her session with Miroku. She was worried that he would be displeased with her, for she would definitely not do well in this condition.

However, when Miroku came to take her down to his lair, he took one look at her and told her to take the night off as well.

"You look tired, Ma chérie. You're pale, and there are shadows under your eyes. It would do you well to rest tonight, so that you're well tomorrow."

Sango smiled in relief. "Thank you, Miroku. I really do need some sleep…" her eyelids began to flicker, and she yawned.

Miroku scooped her up and brought her carefully over to her bed. She was already asleep by the time he set her down. Miroku smiled down at her, then gently kissed her forehead. "Goodnight, Sango. Sleep well."

Then he quietly swept over to the trapdoor (which he had found out that Madame Kaede had replaced), and shut it with a faint 'click' behind him.

* * *

Thursday was the worst day yet. Everyone was woken up at daybreak to begin warming up for the dress rehearsal. So, yawning and grumbling, the population of the Opera House began to stir. 

Everything went down hill right from the start.

All of the ballerinas assembled _almost_ on time, only to find that they had no instructor. Madame Kaede, usually so punctual, wasn't there yet.

They started to warm up by themselves, stretching their limbs to prepare them for the vigorous dances. When they finished, however, they found that there was still no Madame Kaede.

Kagome was beginning to worry. She wondered if anything was wrong.

Fifteen minutes later, Monsieur Toto-sai stalked in, huffing. He told them to join the chorus members, so they all shuffled out of the room they were in and onto the stage.

When everyone was there, Monsieur Toto-sai announced that Madame Kaede had taken ill, and would not be there until late afternoon. She had insisted on coming still, but had been too tired to leave her room that morning. Therefore, Monsieur Toto-sai would be helping them warm up their dances before they put everything together.

The ballet girls were extremely upset about this, and none more than Meg Kaede, but they complied anyway… after all, if they didn't, they would risk displeasing the ghost! As none of them wanted to take that chance, they tried their hardest even without their instructor.

Sango, Bankotsu, and other main characters arrived about an hour later in costume. They began to run through the entire opera, and found to their relief that it actually turned out pretty well.

When they were finished, they ran through it again, correcting any mistakes they had made the first time. By now, it was wonderful… but not quite _perfect_.

Madame Kaede entered by the time they were starting the third run-through, looking more pale and drawn than usual. Several of the ballet girls were startled to see her like this, and began whispering among themselves immediately about her hair, which she had left down.

"Girls, girls! Be silent!" Monsieur Toto-sai ordered them angrily. The ballerinas quickly went quiet, but they still darted glances at their instructor every once in a while.

The third time through, unfortunately, wasn't quite as good as the second. Madame Kaede halted one of the dancing pieces half way through and made them restart it, insisting that it wasn't precise enough.

So the girls, sighing and mumbling to themselves, got back in place to begin the piece.

This time it went almost perfectly, and Madame Kaede was pleased. The rest of it went well, then, but it still wasn't what the Phantom required.

One of the ballerinas sighed noisily. "It's _not_ going to be perfect, nothing is! The only way that _I_ can see for it to get any better would be for the Phantom himself to direct us!"

Madame Kaede smiled slightly. "Be careful what you wish for."

All of the noise in the room suddenly evaporated.

One of the chorus members looked over at Madame Kaede and whispered, "_Would _he?" she shuddered. "I don't think anyone would_ dare_ mess up…"

"_Very well, then… this time don't mess up."_ A voice echoed across the stage. All of the ballet girls, excluding Kagome, squealed and ran to hide behind one another, certain that the famous "Ghost" was going to come into sight any minute now and murder them all.

"_Silence!"_

The chaos diminished with that one word. No one wanted to anger him any further.

"_Now, start from the beginning. Remember, I'm watching, and I won't be pleased with anything other than perfection."_

The girls exchanged glances and shivered. One in the back fainted, and quickly had to be revived before the show began.

Yet again, they began to run through the opera. Everyone was astounded at how well Sango did this time through, and even Bankotsu wasn't as bad as usual. It was as close to perfection that they were going to get.

At the end, when everyone had taken their bows, there was a long silence.

Everyone sat waiting for the Opera Ghost's response.

Finally, when everyone was starting to get anxious, the voice rang out yet again.

"_Very good. Now make sure that opening night runs this smoothly. I shall be watching from my normal seat in Box Five, remember that…"_

The ballet girls exchanged another look—How could they possibly _forget?_

"_Bravi, everyone… bravi."_

* * *

One more chapter, and then the chapter after that-- is the long waited 'Point of No Return.' It makes me sad to lower my goal from 500 to 425, but my story will soon be nearing its end! And anything in the 400s is fine with me (giddy)! Aren't you all excited that it's wrapping up soon? I don't know about me…I'll have mixed feelings. 

Review!

…please?


	33. Chapter 33

**A/N**: I lied…this chapter is Don Juan. K? K!

* * *

Finally, it was the day of the performance. Sango was so nervous she was shaking too hard to lace up her corset. Instead, she had Kagome do it for her. Sango had someone else do her hair, but she herself had to do her stage make-up. Sango didn't trust anyone else to do it. 

She was also nervous because she hadn't seen or heard from Miroku for a long time. Irrationally, Sango started to be plagued with thoughts of horrible things that might have happened to him. This didn't help her state of mind in the least.

As she walked down to the stage for a last rehearsal before the actual show, Sango prayed that nothing would go wrong, and no one would get hurt.

She got the awful feeling lately that Miroku was up to something, and had a sneaking suspicion that Madame Kaede had been helping him. When she questioned the ballet instructor, though, Madame Kaede had told her not to speak nonsense. However, she wouldn't meet Sango's eyes, and she wouldn't answer anymore questions.

Now, as Sango made her way onto the stage, she felt a strange sensation of dread fill her. Something was going to happen, and Sango was almost certain that she wouldn't like it.

* * *

"Are the police ready?" Hakkaku asked Ginta, and his fellow manager nodded his assent. "Good." Hakkaku wiped the sweat from his forehead. He was going to be glad when all of this was over. 

The managers hadn't told anyone of Bankotsu's plan. The only people who knew were themselves, Kuronosuke and the officers in question. They hadn't wanted to startle the cast by notifying them of the reason for the police's presence.

Hakkaku and Ginta sat in their office, going over the plan and looking for things that could go wrong. Hakkaku kept insisting that they should do something in case the Phantom didn't appear in Box Five, but Bankotsu had repeatedly brushed his comments off, firmly telling him that he was _sure_ the Phantom would be there, and there was no question about it.

At last, Hakkaku gave in, but he had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach about it. He was sure that the Phantom would pull some unexpected trick, and they'd be left in confusion. Or dead.

The managers stayed in their office until a half-hour before the show began. Then they made their way down to their seats.

Kuronosuke sat in Box 4 (right next to Box 5, mind you), and began to twitch nervously as he watched the policeman filter into the neighboring Box (Box 3, no one ever took the Ghost's seat) and hide in the shadows. He gulped, and gripped the edge of his chair with worry.

* * *

Sango had stopped shaking, and was beginning to feel the familiar excitement before a performance. She told herself over and over again that nothing would go wrong, and had finally convinced herself…and then she saw the policemen. 

Her heart sank.

"Kagome! Kagome!" She ran through the dark backstage, looking for her friend. When she found her, she said, "Why are their policemen here? What's going on?"

Kagome frowned. "Policemen? Are there really? I didn't know anything about it…"

Madame Kaede came out of the shadows from behind her. "There are officers here?" she asked, and Sango thought she heard a flicker of fear in the woman's voice. "Are they armed?"

Kagome peered out of the curtain, and after a moment pulled her head back in. "Yes, they are."

That was the first time in her life that Sango heard Madame Kaede say a cuss word. She stared at the woman, but by the time she had overcome her shock, the ballet instructor had sped away into the darkness.

Kagome had been just as shocked as Sango. "What was _that_ all about?" she asked, voice shaking a little. "I've _never _heard her… I mean, she doesn't…"

"Miroku is up to something." Sango whispered. "Oh, Kagome, he's up to something… And so are the managers. The police…"

Kagome's eyes suddenly grew wide. "It's almost like a war... But which side is the right side?"

Sango gave her friend a look, and the ballet girl blushed slightly. "I'm sorry Sango, I didn't mean to imply that I thought that maybe Miroku was on the _wrong_ side… but…"

Sango shook her head. "It's _not_ a war, Kagome, you'll see. We're making a fuss over nothing. Nothing will happen. Nothing will go wrong."

Even to her, the words sounded empty.

* * *

Miroku sat at his organ, not playing, but staring off into the distance in thought. His opera would begin in twenty minutes' time. 

He had known that he would have to leave the Opera House soon. Eventually, he knew that the managers would get fed up with his demands, and hunt him out. He couldn't stay hidden forever. Therefore, Miroku had made a plan of escape. This, of course, involved _Don Juan_. He was more than a little upset that he had to interrupt the very first showing, but he knew it was necessary… that is, unless he wanted to leave without Sango. However, he didn't even view that as an option. His life meant nothing without Sango.

He had consulted Madame Kaede on the matter, of course. He didn't want to plan this by himself, and he needed help in case something went wrong.

His plan involved getting rid of Bankotsu, which immediately faced him with a problem. He knew he couldn't kill the man—Sango would never forgive him if he killed again. No, he would just need to get rid of him temporarily.

Unfortunately, he was afraid that, if faced with the horrible tenor, he would lose all sense and kill him after all. This was one reason he needed Madame Kaede. The other, of course, was so that she could make sure everything ran smoothly.

They had discussed this on Thursday morning, and Madame Kaede had called in sick so that she could help him.

Kaede had told Miroku quite firmly that, however, she wanted to be back up on stage by noon, because their practice had needed work. He agreed, but by the time noon came, they had only just finished the plans.

Madame Kaede hated to be late. All of her life, she had been right on time. So when she looked at the clock when they were finished, and realized that it read 11:58, she jumped to her feet and ran out into the passageways.

She made it to the stage just on time—as usual—but she looked pale and out of breath by the time she got there, and Kaede noticed too late that she had forgotten to pull her hair back into her prim and proper pony-tail.

Miroku reflected later that this was actually probably a good thing. It made her excuse of sickness seem all the more real, and certainly none of the ballet girls had suspected a thing. Monsieur Toto-sai had given her a few suspicious looks, but said nothing. But that was only to be expected… Toto-sai was a smart man, and wasn't fooled easily.

Miroku had followed Madame Kaede to the rehearsals, and had taken his seat in Box Five. So, naturally, when one of the ballet rats spoke of him directing them, he had risen to the occasion.

As he sat in the darkness with ten minutes to go to the opera, thinking to himself, he was interrupted abruptly (and unexpectedly) by Madame Kaede.

She looked slightly worried about something, and when Kaede explained about the officers, he saw why.

But there was no turning back now.

* * *

The theater was packed—every seat was full (accept for Box 5, of course). The reason behind this being that the managers had advertised _Don Juan_ as the Ghost's Opera. As always, the public was always looking into anything where they thought there might be trouble or excitement; the opera sold out in a flash. 

Now they all sat in their seats, whispering excitedly to themselves and casting curious glances around the place. All were looking for the telltale ghost.

A few of them looked a bit frightened, but the majority was strangely excited, as if just waiting for something odd and surprising to happen. Unfortunately, nothing happened until later on in the opera…but when it did, they certainly weren't let down.

Five minutes to go until _Don Juan _began…

* * *

Ginta and Hakkaku fidgeted in their seats, occasionally casting glances over at Box Five. 

Still nothing.

They were quite clearly distraught about the missing ghost, but had reassured themselves that he would appear just as the opera began.

All time seemed to slow down, and the seconds ticked by. The police, with their weapons, sat waiting in various places around the room. They were anywhere from the orchestra pit, to behind the seats where the audience was seated. Several of them had actually purchased tickets for the opera beforehand anyway. Though several people thought it was odd that the men came to watch the show with loaded rifles, they didn't think much of it. After all, nothing was too strange for the Ghost's Opera!

Three minutes to go…

* * *

Miroku didn't go to Box Five. He knew that he couldn't. The managers had planned something, and that something had undoubtedly been centered around Box Five. He saw it in their eyes every time they glanced over at his empty seat. 

So, instead, he watched from up above as the seconds ticked away…

Finally, the wait was over. The curtains parted on the opening scene of _Don Juan_.

Miroku smiled down at the stage as the ballet girls and main characters began to filter onto it.

"_Let my opera begin…"_ he whispered.

* * *

(**A/N**: I wanted to leave off there, but I've been waiting _so long_ to write this, that I couldn't resist! Call yourselves lucky. …and so…readers, I bring you Don Juan! …this is exciting!) 

The audience seated on that auspicious night in the Opera Populaire, were dazzled. The respected, tasteful theatre's stage was bedecked in a plush, glittering wave of blazing scarlet, as though seduction itself had turned into something you could hold in the palm of your hand. The golden effigies that surrounded the theatre's domed roof seemed to writhe with pleasure in their new home, and the soft candlelight from the spectacular chandelier danced wildly in the hushed, expectant atmosphere. Crimson curtains cascading down from the ceiling, translucent enough to allow the light to shine through and create twisting red reflections on every surface. However, the audience paid little heed to the breathtaking set, and locked their eyes on the rising star amidst it, Mademoiselle Sango Youkaitashi.

Her fabulous voice had captivated every man, woman, and child that heard it. Society's prying eyes wished only to delve deeper into her secrets and reveal her, disguising its thirst for gossip with sweet adoration.

Now, as the young woman was displayed on the stage, they were entranced. Her costume was a simple yet alluring peasant's dress, delicate white lace against a black bodice. Untamed dark tresses spilled down her back and over her shoulders, contrasting dramatically with her porcelain complexion. Wide hazel eyes, full pink lips, and a blooming red rose in her hair completed the image of an exotic beauty placed before them. And inside, her thoughts were just as crazed and chaotic as her surroundings.

_God help him, God help him, God **save** him…_ Sango prayed to herself, amazed at her ability to recall her part when her mind was someplace else entirely. She caught glimpse of the policeman again and began to wonder _where_ Miroku was. Sango had attempted to avoid searching the theatre for the police, armed with muskets and discreetly placed around the stage, but to no avail. Sango was undeniably nervous and scared. She knew when they caught sight of their prey they would fire. And Lord knows what would happen to him then…

Him. How she tried so hard to keep her thoughts from him, and how she failed. Her own Angel of Music, who was now revealed as the Opera Ghost, and utterly and wholly in love with her. How his dark, sensual voice had enchanted her; lured her to his hideaway underneath the Opera. It haunted her mind, her dreams, every breath she inhaled was He, and every move she made was because of Him. He possessed her, like no other ever had.

* * *

The first scene went smoothly, both the managers agreed. It was most certainly the best show the Opera House had ever put on, even if it was a bit…morbid… 

The audience watched in anticipation as Don Juan and his servant, Passarino, recited their plan and exchanged places. Then Don Juan hid behind a curtain, and the lovely Miss Youkaitashi graced the stage once more.

The managers turned their gaze to Box Five. So far, there was nothing…

* * *

Bankotsu smiled to himself and pulled the curtain closed behind him. It had been a good day so far, and was only promising to get better. Any moment now…any moment the Phantom would appear in Box Five. Then, at long last, they would have their revenge! 

Bankotsu chuckled to himself, and then turned his attention back to the voices onstage. In a moment, he had to go back on…

Suddenly he heard a voice behind him. Surprisingly, however, it was not a male voice. It was a female voice that he recognized…

"Monsieur Bankotsu, you were doing better than usual tonight." Madame Kaede announced quietly, "But unfortunately, you will no longer be needed in this scene. I am sorry for this, but it's the only way."

Bankotsu whirled around to face her just as she brought something heavy down upon his head. Later, he would awake in his room with no recollection of any of the events of that night.

* * *

"Hurry, Monsieur, ye don't have much time." Madame Kaede spoke softly so that they could not hear her on stage, watching worriedly as Miroku donned Bankotsu's hooded cloak. 

Miroku turned to her then. "You have my thanks, Madame."

Madame Kaede nodded briskly. "May luck be with ye, though I fear that ye may need more than luck to get away with this. Ye certainly don't _look_ like Bankotsu, Monsieur, and ye sound even less like him. Thankfully…"

Miroku smiled a little bit at her. "I will be careful."

"I'll take Bankotsu to his room—if I can carry him, that is—and then watch those officers to try to find out what is going on. I don't believe anyone really knows but the managers, Bankotsu and…" But she held her tongue.

Miroku was about to respond, but at that moment, the actor who played the servant said, "Master?"

Miroku waved Madame Kaede away, and responded with the appropriate line… "_Passarino… Go away for the trap is set and waits for its prey…"_

* * *

The audience heard the change in the voice right away. Bankotsu, though he had a decent voice, did not sound anything near as angelic as this one did. Could it be…? 

They all waited with baited breath.

The managers did as well. Hakkaku gave his partner a worried look and mouthed, _"Bankotsu? What happened… that certainly isn't Bankotsu! Is it…the Phantom?…"_

Hakkaku gazed down at Ginta, giving him an 'I-told-you-so' look.

Ginta gulped and turned his attention back to the stage, where a black robed figure was appearing…

* * *

Miroku was all she could think about and she gazed into the audience. For a moment, she looked up at Kuronosuke…who, oddly, was biting his fingernails. This was his doing, wasn't it? And oh, how she loathed him for it. She never had felt so betrayed. Although Sango couldn't garuntee that Kuronosuke had planned this, she believed with all her heart that he did. 

But Miroku…she wanted him with her…and at that moment, she hadn't the energy to mentally curse out Kuronosuke.

And then, as if her mind had summoned him forth, a hauntingly familiar voice floated out behind her.

"_You have come here… in pursuit of your deepest urge…in pursuit of that wish which till now has been silent… silent…"_

Sango had heard the change in the voice as well, and she knew exactly what had happened. Why hadn't she expected something like this!

"_I have brought you, that our passions may fuse and merge…In your mind you've already succumbed to me, dropped all defenses completely succumbed to me…"_

Sango took a shaky breath and pretended as if nothing had changed. She had to keep up the appearance, for Miroku's sake…

His voice sent shivers down her spine. _'Well,' _Sango thought _'At least this time I don't have to worry about not being passionate enough…'_

So he was here, this had been his plan all along: to play Don Juan himself, and fool them all in doing so. No one, Sango knew, had suspected this. She could see from the scandalized look on Kuronosuke's face in his box seat above her, and the stunned rapture of the performers offstage, in the corner of her eye.

His voice, deep and overpowering, flooded her body and she shuddered. This Angel had raised her and given her voice wings, had shown her his music deep underground that night that now seemed many _years_ ago...

"_Now you are here with me: no second thoughts, you've decided, decided…"_

And now, Sango let the mesmerizing melody of his song wash over her.

Everyone watched the figure's progression across the stage, hypnotized by the angelic voice. Even the officers forgot to watch for their signal to shoot from the managers… which really didn't matter, as the managers had quite forgotten to give it. Everyone watched intently.

"_Past the point of no return…No backward glances! The games we've played till now are at an end…Past all point of "if" or "when"…no use resisting…abandon thought, and let the dream descend . . ." _

Sango closed her eyes and lost herself in the sound of his voice. She restrained the sudden urge to jump up and run to him, reminding herself that they were in front of a huge audience.

The hairs on the back of her neck raised as she felt a pair of eyes on her, and she risked a glance at Miroku, to find that his gaze was directed right at her. Hs dark eyes were flashing. His movements were fluid and graceful as he moved across the stage towards her. Sango got to her feet, captivated.

"_What raging fire shall flood the soul? What rich desire unlocks its door? What sweet seduction lies before us . . .?_

Miroku moved closer and closer still. With each step, Sango felt that same strange heat grow warmer yet. His hand reached out, and Sango instinctively grasped it, drawing in a deep breath at the thrill of his touch. He drew out each note he sang to such an extent that Sango felt restless.

Sango couldn't stop herself from sighing, but it was so faint that only Miroku noticed. He raised an eyebrow slightly under the cowl of Don Juan's robe, a tiny smile playing about the corners of his lips. He continued, watching Sango's reaction with glee. He had reached her now, and gently placed his arms around her.

Suddenly, Miroku pulled Sango to him, turning her so her back was against his broad chest. She gasped softly as he brought his hand up to her neck, and intertwined the other in her soft, brown locks. Then, all too soon, he moved away, running his fingers down her arm, giving her goose bumps, and then holding her hand in his.

"_Past the point of no return, the final threshold - what warm, unspoken secrets will we learn? _

Sango's pulse raced madly as her time to sing approached.

"_Beyond the point of no return…"_

Miroku breathed deeply, inhaling the sweet scent of Sango's hair, reveling in her closeness. His plan was moving without a hitch, he could now only pray, only hope that she would comply…

And he believed she would.

"_You have brought me,"_ Sango's pure, unwavering voice reached his ears and he closed his eyes in silent triumph. _"To that moment where words run dry, to that moment where speech disappears into silence, silence…"_

She was doing the best she had ever done in all of her practices, even better than when she had practiced with Miroku. Sango was now pouring her heart into her voice, and it made it all the more beautiful. Though she still blushed slightly at Aminta's seductive words (and blushed more when she realized that they were true) she pulled herself together and continued.

'_See what beauty I have created',_ Miroku thought defiantly at the audience's admiring faces. '_To replace the beauty I can never possess…_ ' _This_ made up for the deformation that cursed his life. Her voice. Sango had brought a new magic to him, and from the moment he heard her sing, Miroku had a reason to continue, to go on. Miroku had perfected her gift, so that when Sango's time came, she would astound all. And after her victory, she would come to him, stay with him forever.

"_I have come here, hardly knowing the reason why… In my mind, I've already imagined our bodies entwining defenseless and silent - "_

As Sango sang to him, in this duet he had written for her and only her, Miroku's heart overflowed. He had never felt such elation, just an indescribable thrill as being on stage with the woman he loved, finally performing his own masterpiece. He bent all his concentration on her, hoping somehow she would sense his thoughts, and respond…knowing she did not deny the peculiar bond between them.

Sango soon found that she wasn't embarrassed anymore. She became increasingly aware of Miroku's arms around her, and her song was getting more and more sincere. She bit back a moan as he began to gently press kisses on her neck. Her breath quickened, but she continued to sing. She couldn't mess up, not now…

"_Now I am here with you - no second thoughts, I've decided, decided…"_

Gently he released her hand, and they stepped away from each other, their eyes never separating. Slowly, painstakingly slowly, they mounted a pair of staircases, each flight of steps connecting with the opposite end of a suspended platform above. Sango's voice resounded throughout the theatre all the while, striking every note with fervent perfection.

"_Past the point of no return, no going back now - our passion-play has now at last begun…"_

Somewhere in the audience, Miroku knew the Vicomte was watching it all…

He smiled.

"_Past all thought of right or wrong - one final question: how long should we to wait, before we're one…?" _They paused, half way up the stairs, Miroku watching in awe as she sang for him, her eyes sparkling with desire and her entire body screaming of seduction. The raw power in her voice mounted as Sango continued, and he felt all his authority wash away. Miroku had hidden his desperate need for her love with a blanket of commanding letters and harsh words. Now he knew he would care not in the least if she tied him on a leash and led him like an animal…as long as he had her love.

"_When will the blood begin to race, the sleeping bud burst into bloom; when will the flames at last, consume us…?"_

Reaching the tops of the stairs, they stood across from each other, Miroku filled with a fiery ardor as he faced Sango. Her petite chest expanded slowly, and they moved towards each other, raising their voices in a flowing molten wave of song, each word burning with fierce desire. There was not a sigh from the audience, as the enthralling rhythm flooded the Opera House and drowned out all other sounds.

Now Miroku's voice joined hers, and the audience sat in complete awe. The sound and the feeling of both voices combined were incredible.

"_Past the point of no return the final threshold -the bridge is crossed, so stand and watch it burn . . ."_

They were now close enough that Sango could see the white fire burning somewhere behind her Angel's eyes, and Miroku could see the battle between fear and excitement in Sango's. They reached forward, Miroku's hands enclosing around her tiny waist, and then twirling her around so he was again behind her, pressing her against him. Miroku guided Sango's hands across her stomach, over her heaving bosom, and brought them to rest on her neck.

" _We've passed the point of no return . . ."_

Then a pause, as the theatre caught its breath. Sango's eyes were closed, her head against Miroku's shoulder as he held her from behind. She could feel his hot breath on her neck, and Sango's whole body trembled with anticipation.

Tenderly, she felt him turn her, so she was facing him. His eyes were now soft, filled with a gentler emotion than the ardent craving that was in them before. Miroku held both of her hands in his own.

There continued a ringing silence as they stopped. Everyone sat still in their seats, and then—slowly—began to come out of their reverie.

Miroku gently drew Sango even closer to himself, and sang softly in her ear. _"Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime…lead me, save me from my solitude…"_

Sango's voice caught in her throat. Her ears roared at Kuronosuke's words were transformed from the delicate proposal on the rooftop to a passionate plea before the world. Each word was branding itself on her heart. Sango gasped softly, reaching up to caress his cheek, but Miroku stopped her, grasping it again and sliding a diamond ring onto her finger. The same ring he had taken from her at the masquerade ball. Only, it was now offering her another man.

"_Say you want me with you, here beside you…" _Then his voice rose to a vibrated crescendo.

She could see tears sparkling in his eyes; hear the intense emotion as he sang. Her surroundings faded away to a golden light, and all she could see was Miroku's adoring face, his shining eyes, and his perfect lips…

Sango drew in a breath. This wasn't in the script… what was he doing! She looked down to where the officers in the pit were, still blinking dazedly.

"_…Anywhere you go, let me go too…Sango, that's all I ask of—"_

He never had time to finish, however, for at that moment, Ginta came out of his trance and quickly signaled for the officers to shoot the man onstage.

The closest policeman raised his gun, and Sango let out a cry of despair. "Miroku!" She quickly turned and pushed him to the ground, landing on top of him.

She wasn't a moment too soon, either, for the bullet went whizzing right over their heads.

Miroku swiftly nudged her off from on top of him and scooped her up in his arms. Then he let something drop to the ground, causing a column of smoke to rise up around them.

"_Goodbye, gentlemen. It has been a pleasure working with you."_

Sango felt the floor drop out from underneath of her, and then everything went black. 

_

* * *

_

Ta da!


	34. Chapter 34

**A/N:** How was everyone's Easter/Passover? Good, I hope. (munches on a chocolate bunny) I'm quite content, as is Erik. He ate two bags of Jelly Beans and Miroku's still passed out on the couch. Sango's probably wondering where he is...poor Sango. Anyway, I don't know about you, but this chapter may cause you to have a rollercoaster of emotions... so I'm just warning you all...because I love you so much. (takes another bite of bunny) Oh, the acne I'm going to have...

* * *

When Sango woke, she was still in complete darkness. For a moment, she thought that she was still unconscious, but then Sango decided that she couldn't be. Sango felt around her and decided that she was on a pile of cushions somewhere. What had happened? Where was she? 

"Sango?"

Sango looked up to see a familiar pair of cobalt eyes above her, and remembered everything. She smiled. "Miroku."

There was a sigh of relief. "Thank God, I thought I had harmed you in that fall."

Sango grinned. "What was that?"

"What was what?"

"Did I just hear you say "Thank _God_?"

There was a moment's silence, and then an amused voice said, "Yes, I suppose you did."

Sango pushed herself to her feet, and then felt through the darkness until she found Miroku. Immediately, she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his chest. "What happened after I passed out?"

Miroku frowned, hesitated, and then began to tell her.

* * *

_Miroku landed on his feet, much like a cat would. Of course, he had been expecting the fall, and had positioned himself so that he wouldn't get hurt._

_Unfortunately, he had forgotten to warn Sango._

_He heard her gasp of surprise as the floor gave out beneath her. Then, when they had landed, there was silence. _

_A wave of terror passed through him. What had he done? Frantically, Miroku knelt down next to her, and carefully lifted Sango into his arms._

_There were angry shouts from above, and he knew at once that he would be pursued. Someone, one of the officers, most likely, was beginning to form a mob. The yells of rage, which once he had laughed at, now sent shivers through his spine. Miroku had Sango to think of now, and if she was harmed, he'd never forgive himself._

_Miroku walked as quickly as he dared, down the passageways. Sango would have to wake up soon… she would have to! He didn't know how long they could stay in his lair without being discovered._

_Finally, after what seemed like an age, they reached the lake, and Miroku rowed to the other side. As soon as they got inside his home, he gently set Sango down on a pile of cushions in the Swan Room, and waited anxiously for her to recover consciousness._

* * *

"So the mob is coming? How much time has passed?" Sango asked at once. 

"Too much." Miroku sighed. "They'll be here soon. We only have two choices… there's no way we can run now, Sango, we'll be caught."

Sango nodded, trembling slightly.

"We can either hide, or I'll fight them while you run."

"We hide." she said instantly.

"Sango… I would feel better if…"

She stopped him with a shake of her head. "We're hiding, Miroku, and that's that. I won't let you fight them alone… and I never want to see you kill again, let alone be killed."

Miroku sighed, opened his mouth to argue, then stopped. He could hear voices echoing in the passageways. They were here.

Sango looked at him calmly. "Where are we hiding, Miroku?"

"Follow me." he crossed the room, and slid aside a case of musical instruments. Behind it was a dark passageway.

Sango shivered, but followed him inside.

Miroku took one last look at his Swan Room. It had been his only solace for many, many years. Music had been his one true love, the only thing that was good in his life. With a sigh of sadness, he slid the case back into place and locked it. Sango was with him now, and he would give it all up for her.

"Miroku," she asked softly, "Where does this passageway lead?"

He frowned. "It used to be a way out, but now it's a dead end. The ceiling collapsed, to my shame. I think it was the first time I ever made anything that didn't work as it was supposed to."

Sango hid a grin at his obvious dislike of imperfection, and didn't say anything about it.

A moment later, there was a heart-stopping crash as the door to the Swan Room shattered. Sango gasped, and then bit her lip until it bled.

The sounds of destruction were almost more than she could bear, and she could only imagine how Miroku felt.

Miroku carefully kept the emotions from his face, not wanting to upset Sango. Every shatter he heard pierced his heart, and he immediately knew exactly what had been broken.

He counted them off in his mind._ The coffin… the cases of instruments…the violin…_

The list went on and on, but he stood quietly and took it all.

At least, until he heard the echoing clang of metal on metal. The sound vibrated through him and shook him to the core, making Miroku collapse to his knees. _The organ!_ A cry of pain escaped his lips before he could stop himself.

Fortunately, no one heard it over the sounds of destruction but Sango.

Miroku was now crying silently. _This had been his life_. Everything he knew… everything he loved… was gone. Everything, that is, except Sango. He wouldn't lose her now by being foolish and giving away their hiding place.

Miroku shut his eyes and tried to block out the terrible sounds, but it was impossible.

The next hour was one of the worst in his entire life. It was worse than his mother refusing to kiss him, worse than the gypsies tormenting, worse than the looks of fear on people's faces when they saw him. No, it was worse by far. In this hour, the only happiness that Miroku had ever had in his tortured life was being shattered, little by little.

At long last, the sounds stopped.

"He's not here!" Someone cried out.

There were several faint responses, but Miroku didn't catch them.

Then, there was a long, blissful silence.

After about a half an hour, Sango bent down and gently helped Miroku to his feet. She was pale and shaking, and there were streaks down her face left by fallen tears.

"Miroku, they're gone. They left a while ago."

He took a shaky breath. "You're sure? All of them?"

Sango nodded.

"Then…then I suppose…I'll have to face it sometime…"

He closed his eyes as Sango unlocked the hidden passageway, and pushed the case aside. She gasped.

Miroku kept his eyes closed tightly, not wanting to see what he knew he would when he opened them.

"Miroku…don't look." Sango choked. "I'll lead you out… please don't look…"

But Miroku couldn't stop himself. Immediately, his eyes opened. He cried out in anguish, and Sango ran to him.

Miroku leaned on her for support as he surveyed the damage. The mob had destroyed everything, down to the smallest scrap of music.

The organ was smashed, the cases of instruments were shattered, and their contents strewn around and broken. All of the sheet music he had written had been burned, and there were scorch marks on the walls from where the mob had apparently attempted to burn the room down.

They didn't bother checking through the other rooms of the house. It was bad enough having to leave through the ones they did.

Every piece of art was completely destroyed. Nothing had been spared.

Miroku tried not to look as he walked by, but he couldn't help but hope that something, _something_, had survived.

But nothing had.

Finally, they reached the lake. Sango wanted to go back to her dressing room. The boat, which Miroku had hid, was surprisingly still intact. It was the only thing that made it.

Miroku turned for one last look at the place that had been his home for so many years. It was cold and empty, and the doors swayed softly on the hinges, some slightly crooked. Most of the windows were broken, and in one of the higher rooms, someone had managed to set at least one of the rooms on fire.

Miroku turned away, trying to ignore the pain. That was his old life, he had to let it go…if not for his sake, then at least for Sango's.

Sango looked up at him, and then back at the house. Fresh tears ran down her cheeks. "I'm sorry Miroku…I'm really, really sorry."

Miroku shook his head. "There's nothing for you to be sorry about."

Reaching out to him, Sango placed both hands on Miroku's chest and, pushing herself up on her toes, pressed her lips to his. It was the only thing that she could think to do. He needed comfort.

Miroku's lips tasted of tears, and she felt his entire body stiffen at her contact. She pulled back and looked at him. His eyes were lost, frightened, and filled with such a desperate longing, pleading her to love him. He had lost everything…he couldn't lose her too.

Sango's tears now mingled with Miroku's as their lips fused, one forlorn soul finding and molding with another. Heat spread from his lips throughout her body. Sango's body was static at his touch. Within the kiss she poured everything she felt, confusion, misery, passion, and love; for her father, for him… for this tortured creature that lived off her own self. Her mind was lost in a whirl of color and fire; Sango felt her pulse race and her skin grow hot.

When Miroku pulled away, she suddenly felt more alone than ever, even empty. She stared at him in stupefaction as he wept.

His choked voice broke the silence: "Sango…" He turned and scuffled through the rubble, picking up the newfound music box and opening its lid. The tune was severely damaged, but the melody was still burned within Miroku's mind. He laughed sadly at it, trying to wipe away his tears.

Sango gazed at Miroku's back, his figure somewhat slumped, watching the monkey weakly clap its cymbals together. His voice was weak with crying.

"_Masquerade...paper faces on parade – masquerade…hide your face, the world will never find you…"_

A wave of sorrow passed over Sango as she realized how strongly those words related to him, how much they must mean…

She moved forward slightly, and he caught sight of her. Sango saw grief beyond his years wrought in his face, like a man who has lost all will to live, and he probably _had_. He looked at her in wonderment, as though he wasn't sure if she was really there, he seemed to be in a daze. Sango opened her mouth to say something, anything, but not even her voice could save her now.

His form strengthened in a faint, last hope.

He needed to know, now more than ever… Miroku needed to be _sure_…

"_Sango, I love you."_

Sango let out a strangled sob. All he had done, all she had done, and his simple final statement shed light on it all. For the first _true_ time, without any confusion or questioning, Sango saw Miroku not as the Opera Ghost or an angel, nor a murderer or a phantom, but a man, willing to do all in his power to keep the woman he loved beside him.

She came to stand beside him, their eyes never leaving each other's as she moved forward, twisting the ring on her finger. Sango kneeled beside Miroku, and cautiously reached out to remove his mask. He flinched as her hand brushed over his deformed cheek. "Please," she whispered. "Miroku, it's all right. Don't hide your face from me. Why, after all we've been through… " Sango made a small smile as she watched Miroku relax. She let her fingers run over the raised veins and welts on his cheek, over his drooping eyelid and sunken-in nose. She stroked each disfigurement with loving tenderness, and he stared at her in amazement. Then, closing his eyes, he sighed in pleasure.

Sango took his face in both hands. "Miroku," she breathed.

"Sango," he looked at her, his eyes burning brightly with some unidentifiable emotion. Something in her voice…something he had never heard, yet longed to hear… "Why?"

She smiled sadly. _"Who was that shape in the shadows…? Whose is the face in the mask…?" _She let her hands gradually drop away, but his face lingered there, missing her touch. _"Now that my eyes behold him…I do lo-" _Her voice caught in her throat. She stood and turned away with a deep blush on her cheeks and new tears forming in her eyes.

Hesitantly, Miroku reached forward and lightly touched her arm. He was being as gentle as he could, afraid she would recoil, but she barely moved, only glanced at him over her shoulder. With her back to him, she spoke again, softly at first, then with mounting ardor. _"How his voice filled my spirit with a strange sweet sound, in that night there was music in my mind…" _Suddenly, a desperate look filled her eyes, and she whirled around. _"And from music, my soul began to soar!"_

Miroku saw the same awe-inspired look in her eyes that she had had when he first came to her. _"And I heard, as I've never heard before…"_

"_Why?_ Why do you see me as an Angel," Miroku said lowly, "when I can never be anything but a beast?"

"No other could ever recreate what I've felt those nights…those nights when I'm with you." She grasped his shaking hand and placed it over her heart, "What was here. That sounds like the works of an Angel to me, doesn't it?"

He stared at his hand in wonder. Then, after a moment of his harsh breathing, Miroku said quietly, "Sango, I…I only wish for you to be happy." He stroked her hair lovingly. "You are saying that you wish to run away with me? A life of constant hiding," he thought about the situation thoroughly for the very first time. "you can't want that." Miroku squeezed her hand. "Go."

Sango blinked and locked her hazel orbs on his cobalt ones. "What?"

"Go now, and leave me…" Miroku's voice was filled with misery as he tore his eyes away.

Sango did not stir. And though nothing had changed, there was _something_…the way her eyes glittered, the slight flush of her cheeks, the way she longed to push her body into his…

"Miroku…I'm not leaving."

He looked at her again.

"I love you."

And, in the moment, Miroku felt his heart stop just for a second.

"I love you, Miroku." Sango repeated more strongly, wrapping her arms around his torso in a tight embrace. "Please…don't you even think of leaving here without me." She nuzzled her face into his chest.

Miroku then produced a serious of happy sobs into her hair. It came to him then. He had been so rudely interrupted before...

"_Say you'll share with me…one love…one lifetime…"_

Sango breathed in sharply. She waited apprehensively for the doubts to flood her head. But none came. There was nothing left to consider.

She smiled in her tears. _"Say the word and I will follow you…"_

Miroku sighed in joy and relief. _"Share each day with me, each night…each morning…" _He grasped her hands and pulled her to him. _"Say you love me…"_

"Miroku," she tilted her head up. _"I swear I do…"_

Miroku's entire face was transformed from the crushed man just minutes ago. His face glowed with rejoice and disbelieving happiness. _"You alone can make my song take flight…" _He placed his thumb and forefinger underneath Sango's chin and brought her full, red lips to his in a captivating kiss.

And as their lips parted, Sango murmured gently, "_My Angel…let me lead you to the light…"_

_

* * *

_

**A/N**: This is NOT the last chapter! Don't cry just yet!


	35. Chapter 35

**A/N**: (cries) This is the last chapter! Well, besides the epilogue. I will acknowledge anyone who ever read my story and reviewed it, at the end.

* * *

Sango dashed into her dressing room while Miroku waited nervously for her behind the mirror. She had to hurry, or else they would be discovered. 

Sango knew she couldn't take everything, so she grabbed the things that meant the most to her—a broken picture of her father, Miroku's notes to her, a letter her father had written to her when she was young, and, of course, Miroku's engagement ring to her. She carefully placed them all into a small jewelry box, then grabbed a quill and parchment and wrote a quick note to Kagome.

_Kagome,_

_I won't be at the Opera Populaire anymore, but know that we'll meet again. I am happy, so dismiss any rumors you might hear. I'll write. Tell Inuyasha and Shippou good-bye for me._

_-Sango_

That was all she had time for, so she folded the note and set it on her bed. Then she ran back to the mirror. She could hear voices in the hallway and, though she didn't think that they were even looking for her, she didn't want to take any chances.

Miroku led her down through the passageways for what seemed like an eternity. She grew tired, but tried not to show it. Miroku had enough on his mind, and Sango didn't want to burden him with her problems.

He seemed to notice anyway, for he turned to her and said, "Don't worry, we're almost there."

Sango nodded, and with renewed strength followed him out through the trapdoor and into the sunlight.

Miroku winced at the brightness, which he wasn't used to.

"Where are we going to go?" Sango suddenly asked, realizing that she hadn't thought passed getting out of the Opera House. Fortunately, Miroku had.

"Madame Kaede rented a cottage for us until we could find a suitable home. It's pretty much in the middle of nowhere, so we won't have to worry about being recognized."

Miroku had ordered a carriage, which they both climbed into, and shut the door behind them.

As it pulled away, Sango watched the Opera House until it was out of sight. Maybe she had gone through hard times in there, but it was the closest thing to a home that she had ever had.

"Will we ever go back?" she asked quietly, "I think I'll miss it."

"If you would like to, Sango." Miroku answered, "We can go and watch an opera every now and then."

Sango grinned and nodded. "I'd like that very much, Miroku."

A smile began to form itself on Miroku's lips, "We can even order Box Five…"

"And maybe you can remind them that they never gave you your salary." Sango joked.

Miroku's smile grew, but he decided not to tell her about the money in his pocket.

Finally, the carriage reached the edge of a small glen, and the two got out. Miroku tipped the driver for his silence, and turned to Sango.

"We'll have to walk from here." He told her, "But if you're too tired, I can carry you."

"No, I'm alright."

He was about to protest, but she ran out ahead of him.

"Come on, Miroku, can't you even keep up with _me_!" She teased, and he ran off after her.

Sango screamed in mock fright and ran off into the small forest, even though she had no idea where the cottage was in it.

When she didn't hear Miroku behind her, she got confused. Soon, however, she reached the cottage, and saw that he was already there, waiting for her.

She turned and looked behind her, then turned back to him. "How…How did you…" she stammered.

He laughed. "Haven't you learned yet, my dear, never to challenge the Opera Ghost?"

Sango glared jokingly at him, then ran up the steps into his arms.

After a moment, she pulled back and said, "Now let's see the house."

The cottage was a little bit small, with ivy growing up the sides and roses in the garden. It was made of sturdy gray stone, and had little, round windows.

Miroku watched nervously as she examined it. "It's only for a short amount of time," he explained, "So it's not perfect, but—"

Sango turned and kissed him softly on the lips. "It's beautiful."

He smiled again. "It is a little bit small, though."

Sango grinned mischievously at him. "All the better—it means you can never be too far away from me." She paused, then said vaguely, "I wonder if there's only one bedroom…"

She smirked at the look on his face, then darted off into the house before he could say anything.

* * *

"Left, huh?" Inuyasha said, skimming the blunt letter with amber eyes. "Well, Miroku, looks like your life's not so bad, after all." 

Jakotsu rammed into Inuyasha and clung to his arm, reading over his shoulder. "That's right, my little Inuyasha. They should run! Knocking my poor Bankotsu out like that! He's still out cold, you know."

Inuyasha growled and shook Jakotsu off of him. "Beat it!"

To which, Jakotsu pouted and slunk away into some corner.

Kagome, who had been sitting on Sango's bed, sighed. "Really, can't you two get along?"

"It's you who makes everything so difficult…" Jakotsu murmured as he crossed his arms stubbornly at the wall.

Kagome raised an eyebrow. "Anyway…" she continued, "I'm really going to miss them."

Inuyasha nodded in agreement, "But what about that Kurono-baka—" Kagome glared at him in annoyance, "Kuronosuke guy?"

"Shippou's told me he's left. He saw him leave almost directly after the mob came up from Miroku's."

Inuyasha winced. "Those bastards. Did you see what it's like down there? Serves the idiot right, not getting Sango! He had come up with the plan! I heard 'em, all talking in the manager's office." Inuyasha snorted, "I should've said something!"

"Well, no use arguing about it now and the Victome is obviously ashamed, or else he wouldn't have fled like he did. Deep down, I think he knew that Sango's heart belonged to someone else." Kagome sighed dreamily at the thought of finding _her _Miroku. She turned her gaze to Inuyasha and instantly blushed.

Jakotsu got angry, but stayed where he was.

Inuyasha didn't notice. "Way to be all sentimental, Kagome. It's disgusting."

She laughed. '_Inuyasha…_'

* * *

Sango and Miroku's stay at the cottage was happy, if short. The problem was, the cottage was just too small for a growing family, and they began looking for a new house the minute Sango announced that she was with child (And yes, I guess you could say that they made much 'music of the night' beforehand). 

Miroku grew worried after a while that they wouldn't find one. They couldn't be too near to the city, or Sango would be recognized. It was much too early to return there safely.

So they searched, and searched some more. When Sango wasn't looking, she was writing letters to Kagome. Kagome wanted to come visit, but Madame Kaede had told her it would be too dangerous. The ballet girl had retorted that eventually she _would_ visit, and she would wear the little pink dress that Kaede and her mother hated.

As a result, Madame Kaede tore apart Kagome's room in search of it, but her search proved fruitless.

When Sango wrote asking the ballet girl where she had hid the dress, Kagome responded smugly, _"It actually isn't mine. It was my Mama's, when she was little. She wore it once for a party, and then apparently forgot about it. I returned it to her closet, where I found it. Of course, Inuyasha's been trying to get me back in it ever since!"_

When Sango read that, she laughed so hard that she fell out of the chair that she had been sitting in. Upon hearing the crash, Miroku burst into the room to find Sango on the floor in fits of giggles. He watched her amusedly for a moment, then told her to get up before she hurt the baby.

* * *

A few days later, Sango informed Miroku that she had found a house. Miroku was relieved, but when he asked her about it, she wouldn't answer. 

Her only response was, "You'll like it, don't worry."

When he tried to press her further, she laughed and waved him away. "It's a surprise."

He sighed and gave up.

Sango used all of the money she had saved from her entire time at the Opera House (which Kagome had sent to her) to purchase it. Even then, though she didn't know it, she didn't have enough. Miroku added some money when she wasn't looking.

He was a little bit nervous about buying a house that he had never even seen before, but he gave Sango the benefit of the doubt. He had to trust her.

In the end, he was glad he did.

Miroku had stopped wearing his mask after a while, when Sango protested. He was still uneasy about going out in public, but he was progressively getting better.

Finally he shoved it in the bottom drawer of the dresser in the cottage, and never wore it again. After a while, he even forgot about it.

A year after they moved out of the cottage, a small old lady moved in. You can just imagine the curious look on her face when, as unpacking her clothing, she uncovered a rather intriguing object in her bottom dresser drawer—A white mask.

**FIN.**

**Er…**

**OWARI!**

**Ummm**

**THE END**

**Oh, WHAT EVER…**

**A/N:** Now, there is an epilogue, so technically, my story's not over until next chapter…

Penny: That's all right, Erik…just admit it…

Me: _This_ again?

Sango: She's never going to give up, is she?

Miroku: Afraid not.

Erik: I am NOT a vampire…

Penny: DENIAL!

Erik: Isn't that at right, Christine?

Me: . . .

Miroku: Mikomi-sama?

Sango: Mikomi-chan?

Erik: CHRISTINE!

Me: Well, my love, you do have a lot of qualities of one.

Penny: (points at Erik) VAMPIRE!

Me: Prince of darkness, coffin-sleeper, the black clothing… the seducing…but of course, I don't mind any of those things! Especially the seduce…never mind. (blushes)

Penny: The sooner you admit that you're a vampire, the sooner this story can be over.

Erik: Than it shall never end! Just what the readers want! (walks off with the author-me-and does some things that makes people tend to gag, yet, for Erik-lovers, is always a 'phantasy')

Penny: (eyes widen) This story is rated T! NOT M! And…and this isn't over! It shall continue… IN THE EPILOGUE!


	36. Chapter 36

**A/N**: Most of the Author's Note will be at the end. I want to thank each and every one of you, and it will take a while to write down all of the names. Oh, and I realized that the way I made Kuronosuke flee like that, well, it _was_ a little rushed. But don't you see? It gives me a foundation for a possible sequel…possibly. I don't know yet.

**

* * *

Epilogue**

The carriage pulled into a long driveway. The new house was in a secluded part of the city, surrounded by trees like their last home was.

Miroku was nervous, though he couldn't figure out why. He had a sneaking suspicion that Sango was up to something. She had a little quirky smile on her face that grew as the carriage stopped.

They got out, and Miroku finally got his first look at their new home.

It was pretty, but not very impressive. It looked as though it had been empty for quite a while. It gave the impression that once it had been very beautiful—there was empty soil in the front where it looked as though an elaborate garden had been, and the walls gleamed underneath of the grit and dirt on them.

Sango came up and stood beside him. "It needs a little fixing up." She admitted, "But that wasn't why I picked it."

Miroku nodded, and waited for her to explain.

She didn't, right away.

Instead, she opened the gate and walked down the pathway, smiling up at the house. "There is one master bedroom, and then a few other spare rooms. I figured we might need them, just in case." She turned and grinned at him, and he smiled back.

"But that still isn't what made me like it." She continued.

Miroku followed her up the steps, and inside.

The rooms weren't quite empty. Whoever had lived here before left a lot of their furniture. Miroku found himself staring at a few odd pieces…

_Was that an alter?_

"Sango—"

"Did you know, Miroku, that this house was once a small community church?"

Miroku frowned curiously at her. "No… I didn't."

Sango nodded almost absent-mindedly. "They renovated it into a house when a bigger church was made nearby. It's really beautiful, don't you think? When it's cleaned up, it will look nice. I think the last person who owned it turned the service room into the living room."

"It wasn't a very big church." was Miroku's only comment. He was confused at Sango's choice of a house. Though he really did like it, it was rather…strange.

Sango grinned at him, seeing his confusion in his eyes. She still eluded it, though. "No, it wasn't."

She took his hand and led him through the house, showing him all of the bedrooms and spare rooms. Miroku had to agree that he did like it. It had a beautiful view, and very nice furnishings. Still, though, many of the other houses they had seen also had them. He couldn't figure out why she had picked this one in particular, especially since it had once been a church—not that he had anything against that…

"Sango," he said at last, when the finished touring the place, "I still don't think I understand why you picked this house in particular."

She smiled secretively. "There's still one last room…"

They were standing before the double doors to the service room that had been turned into a living room.

Miroku gave her another odd look.

Sango met his gaze evenly, and then pushed the doors open.

Miroku walked inside, and his breath caught in his throat.

For, on the opposite wall on the far side of the room, there was an organ.

Miroku froze for a moment, and then turned to look at Sango, who was grinning from ear to ear now.

"Go on," she urged him, "Try it out."

Miroku didn't need to be told twice. He hurried across the room with Sango at his heels.

He slid into place at the bench, and ran his fingers gently over the keys. "I haven't played since we left the Opera House." he said in sudden realization.

Sango nodded. "I know." She whispered.

Miroku took a deep breath, placed his fingers into position, and began to play.

A glorious, sweet sound filled the room, vibrating from every timber.

Miroku closed his eyes and let the music fill him, tears of joy coming to his eyes. He hadn't realized until now how much he missed his music.

Sango watched him play, heart pounding blissfully. He looked so happy now, and she was glad that she had picked this house. She knew he would like it.

When Miroku finished playing, he dropped his hands, trembling slightly. After a moment, he looked back up at Sango.

"Thank you…" he whispered. "Thank you so much…"

Sango just smiled at him. She then was thinking about Miroku, her and the family to come, as she looked around the room. Her smile widened. Her mind started to overflow with happy memories. This included the one with the baby. But, of course, the day that Sango announced that she was pregnant, it hadn't gone as she had expected—

_Funny, but it was the cold that woke him. After years of living in the icy dampness of the opera cellars, he had thought himself immune to the effects of a simple chill. Yet Miroku's eyes opened, a frigid air forcing him from his dreams, just in time to hear the clock strike three times…_

_One…two…three in the morning…._

_His skin puckered with small bumps of gooseflesh, raised by the kiss of the chill night air. Strange…in 21 years he could never recall having goose bumps…_

_Perhaps it was because in 21 years, his body had never known such warmth to compare to this cold …_

_Sango laid asleep against his chest. The places where her body touched his were the only fortunate areas of flesh that were free from the cold._

_The fire had long ago burned out, but even in the darkness of the room he could see her, could see the faint scar on her back (Sango didn't care to reveal how she got it. It was one part of her childhood that she didn't want to recall), every lock of hair… She lay naked, her soft cheek pressed against him, her breath fluttering over his chest. Her lips were still a deep shade of pink from his kisses; the pale skin of her hips bore marks from where his fingers had clutched Sango's body to his own. Sango's right arm was thrown protectively around his stomach, and her right leg was entwined rather intimately with his._

_He almost had to laugh…they had been so exhausted that both had fallen into a slumber upon the floor of a parlor._

_Sango sighed against him and Miroku let his eyes fall closed. Admittedly, a part of him was dreadfully uncomfortable on the floor, but the reassurance of Sango's warm body against his was bliss enough to last him for eternity. _

_His throat burned and tears threatened to spill._

_How many times had he had this dream? This cruel apparition? Where Sango lay in his arms, sated and spent, her lips twisted in a knowing smile as she slept? How many times in his dreams had he loved her? How many times in his dreams had he held her? How many times had that warmth been cruelly torn from him as he had awakened to the emptiness of his life? Of his reality?_

_Sango tightened her arm around his midsection and Miroku felt his stomach flutter._

_This was no dream._

_It had all been real…It had all been his…all was his, a memory that he would cherish until the end of all time. Every sigh, every caress, every gasp and every moment of absolute rapture that had crossed Sango's face as he had made his music with her…was his. More precious than life…these moments were so much more…they were immortality._

"_Miroku…" Her voice was a throaty whisper against his chest. "Miroku…"_

_He lifted his head to see her sleep filled eyes staring at him. Gently, he ran his fingers through her beautiful hair…it felt like Heaven against his skin._

"_Are you cold, Sango?" His own voice was weak from the aftereffects of their passion._

_Sango nodded slowly, pressing a kiss to his chest. She inhaled deeply, the scent of his skin filling and comforting her. He smelt of warmth and familiarity …she inhaled again before pressing her lips once more to him. Part of her didn't want to move. The reality of lying in this man's embrace was almost too much for her, and she was terrified too much as to disturb the air in the room._

_She loved him._

_Loved him._

_Loved him._

_Loved him…_

"_Miroku," Sango laid her head back on his chest, "I've…well, I've been meaning to tell you something." Her voice shook a bit, and Sango's heart suddenly began pounding with the fear that Miroku would notice. _

_He was too sleepy to, however, and merely rubbed her arm gently with his hands. "Of course, Sango." He turned his head to the side and yawned, blushing as Sango's-now alert- eyes gazed up at him. He cleared his throat. "What is it you wish to tell me?"_

_She played with her hair. "Miroku, when a woman loves a man they often show that affection for each other by…" Sango looked around her, noticing their intimate position on the parlor floor. "By…by **this**." She watched Miroku smile. Sango would never refer to their _(**A/N**: (blushes) I can't even type it!) _love-making as anything other than 'music.' "It could lead to other things…more extraordinary things, Miroku."_

_Miroku blinked, not understanding._

"_I'm pregnant, Miroku…" _

_Miroku stopped breathing. After a moment, he mumbled towards the ceiling, "Pregnant?" He bowed his head and looked at Sango, who nodded slowly. Miroku found himself clutching his fists to his sides. "Why?" He hissed._

_Sango felt herself roll off Miroku in shock._

"_Miroku, I thought you'd be happy!"_

_Miroku jerked upward and sat. "**Happy**? Why should I be happy? I have only cursed our unborn child." He cradled his head in his hands helplessly. "Oh Sango, it's not you. It could never be you."_

_Sango felt her eyes start to water._

"_Our child, with half the face of an angel, and half like a demon…"_

Of course, Sango had then reassured him with a couple of lines that were—

"_I am not your mother…"_

And…

"_I will love our baby no matter what the physical appearance."_

This resulted in more kissing, Miroku begging forgiveness, and gradually, a happy to-be father.

"Oh, how happy this has made me, Sango!" Miroku leapt up from the organ bench and embraced her, snapping Sango out of her meditation. She rested her chin on his shoulder and sighed happily.

"I knew you would love it."

Miroku placed a hand on Sango's still-flat stomach. "Yes, and as soon as the little one is born, I will teach him-or her-how to play as well!" He brought his lips to Sango's and gave her a delicate kiss.

"Two musical geniuses, I don't know if I can handle it!" Sango laughed.

Miroku smirked. "By the time I'm done with you, Sango…this house will be filled with 10-20 geniuses."

"You pervert!" She playfully joked, lightly smacking Miroku on his arm. "Who ever said that I would agree to that many?" She ran into the kitchen to make breakfast.

Miroku followed after her in glee, like a dog chasing his owner, "Oh, Sango! Would you bear my children?"

There was an explosion of laughter from inside the other room.

"Sango!" Miroku grinned, going into the kitchen and scooping her up into his arms.

Through fits of giggles a feverish pecks to his flesh, Sango replied, "I'll bear you 100!"

And so, this story, Strange Duet, is at its end.

* * *

**A/N**: Thank you everyone, for reading. I would now like to thank all of you for reading, and thank anyone who ever reviewed. 

Especially Demon Exterminator Barbie, my very first reviewer, and to all of you who stuck with me to the end! You gave me the support I needed to continue writing, and I wish I could thank each and every one of you individually for different reasons. However, that would take up a lot of time that I don't have, so instead I will just list your names here. If you EVER reviewed before I finished, then I guarantee your name is on here (if not…I'm so sorry!). Hopefully spelled correctly…

A BIG HUGE thanks to:

**Aki-Enjeru**** alchemistgrl09****Alyanorne**** angel-of-music246 ****anichick23**** animepinay18**** audikatia**** BlackTopHat ****by the sakura tree**** Dark Darianna Minamino**** Dark Midnightstar ****dark sorceress of egypt**** darkfallenangel666**** DarkHeartKeyblade ****Dreamer-chan ****faye1071**** firedemongirl****18. ****Flames Of My Heart ****FluorescentShadows ****hazeleyegurl28**** HyperAnko ****Ill-fated Solitude**** inu demon500 ****Jasane-chan ****Kagura2216**** keikai senshi of nishinos**** Kept-Promise**** Kitty Weasley KW**** KiWi006 Blue ****LiLDoggieDemon**** Little Flea**** MirokuSangoGirl**** Missy Kit**** Nakamura Aiko**** O.oCharmedAnimeGirlo.O**** Phantom of the Wicked**** Pilgrim Snow ****pnaygurl767**** Princess Fox Fire**** Sango-Miroku-4ever ****Shields****SlayerSango23**** SqUiRtLuVr**** SuperShouri ****Takako ****tinemelk ****VampirePrincess911**** Wondy-Quinn**** yummyuu**** paris sangofan89 nicole hershberger ayuluvsinu inu-girl Jasane-Chan lovesong221 Flick the oreo cookie angel-music-angel246 kya i luv u... (not like that!) naxa inugirl4evamore ****Sangonesan**** MICHELLEXCORE Ritzu FaithInTheSky2360 candice Arya Cabbage Rose Sandra HarleenQ ****carazyladee****kiraracat14**** MirokuSangoGirl MirSanLuver SangoandMirokuGirl44 poto+Inuyashayay Lissy ****Princess Fox Fire**** Amber Sango's Counterpart Lavender Izumi kikyosesshomaru ****kirara980****ookamitou****Hatori-kun**

**Kera Sheden- I wish you would've finished reading this! (cries)**

**OukamiMisow: I love you! My best friend and still trying to convince me that Erik's a vampire!**

Penny: HE IS!

Well, it's been fun…(sniff sniff) I'll miss you all! THANK YOU EVERYONE! GOODBYE!

Christine

P.S. Does anyone want to be a complete saint and help me edit this story? Just asking, you've already done _soo_ much!

©Strange Duet: Phantom of the Opera, Inuyasha Style

The Sweet Allure of Lady Red Death

Published: 6-30-05 Finished: 4-20-06


	37. PLEASE READ

Dear Reviewers,

It's been awhile, hasn't it? _Strange Duet_ has, by FAR, been my most successful, and it is all b/c of you guys! For those of you that aren't aware, I've started a sort of "Prequel" to it. Not a sequel, not a prologue, but somewhere in between the two. _Sweet Intoxication _has been posted since April now, and although it's just a prologue, it hasn't been getting a lot of reads. I'd hate to continue my plot line when people seem to have no interest in it. So if you could just drop by and show your support... I hate deleting stories, especially ones with potential.

Of course, the decision is entirely up to you.

Love you all!

The Author,

The Sweet Allure of Lady Red Death


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